Winter’s Poem

Winter’s Poem prose poem

Photo by enki22

I sit by my window every morning,
Wanting, willing to write a poem.
The pen in my hand yearns to touch the blank paper,
Like a lover yearns to touch the beloved.
The paper breathes patiently,
The warm sun brushes through it,
The winter breeze moves around with a chuckle
Few emotions, ideas and thoughts had almost
Packed their bags to leave me
To be free, to be far, to forever be distant.
But I instead held them back
Kept them captive, kept them closed inside.
Unhappy and angry they cried,
The emotions, ideas and thoughts.
“For a poem will not be born if you hold us captive.”
Some days are like that I said
You wish to leave and you can’t
You wish to be free and you can’t
You wish to create and you can’t
You wish to forever be distant and you can’t
They listen to me patiently
The pen looks at the paper yearningly
The sun moves above brightly
The shades over my window changes from
Blue to red to yellow to bright yellow to
Orange to pink to blue and then to black.
I lie restless on my bed
With a poem waiting to be born
With emotions, ideas and thoughts
Protesting to not sleep
Eventually the room becomes cold
And me, my emotions, ideas and thoughts
Shiver inside the blanket and then
Tired and unaware
I sleep, they sleep and
The poem inside escapes through me and becomes a dream
And eventually perishes
Silently on a cold winter night
Unable to be born
A poem dies.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

A Poem From Mud Poetry By Doug Jackson

A Poem From Mud Poetry By Doug Jackson elegy

And with a gust of defeat; the future seems familiar. Has the oneness forgotten about me? The interconnectedness of futile Embellishments followed by straights of garbage, lack-luster trash, soul-less sirens of shit-laced spines, irrelevance, trains without brakes. Exposure, death, the

Not That Type Of Poem

Not That Type Of Poem long poem

Sorry death But I’m going to cheat on you With life that is She’s too beautiful With her crisp fresh air days And her sun filled rays In this poem This girl lives for another day I finally wake up

Sleepy Eyed Poem

Sleepy Eyed Poem short poem

A sleepy set of eyes As I awoke to write A little blurry as I type Through a sleepy set of eyes Blinking once blinking twice To let these eyes adjust Helping me read and think Sinking each word into

One Poem From Mud Poetry

One Poem From Mud Poetry elegy

Strangers from incident, lies for distance, pitfalls of living infrequent, Rushes of sympathy pass over like fever sweat. In concurrent motion the wolves swarm on the lifeless carcass. Impending emotions fill the hole in my stomach, my chest continues to

Birth Of A Poem

Birth Of A Poem short poem

In the sea of flesh: pomegranates. I will not say what I mean. In nameless pit of hollow breast, a parting kiss of poetry. I will count my steps tonight. walking on tectonic plates before the quake hits. It was