Wednesday, August 30, 2006

lost ideas

I’ve had
more attempts of
than poems.

I have sat,
pen in hand;
open laptop,
white screen,
blinking cursor,
fingertips pressed lightly
on the keys,
almost feeling each letter)
to be more accurate.)

I almost hate
when an idea hits me,
square on the back
of my head,
like a hot slap,
after a sarcastic remark
to my father.
If I do not have
pen and paper,
computer and outlet,
the idea is lost.

So, I run
looking for
scraps of paper,
a pencil, pen, marker.
I would use a knife
and write in my own
if the idea was
that good.

Most of the time,
I wait,
looking over my shoulder,
for a periodic
that is a poem.