I ask you, where do you reside,
you words with meaning, do you hide
inside the dark, forbidden spots,
like beautiful forget-me-nots?
...
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Believe it or not Max, it comes easy. Most of the time. When it does not I am unable to write even a fourliner. Joy. Yes I am having a lot of joy writing poetry and have recently run into a dilemma. Lines come to me while running long distance (usually the beach) and much as I try to remember them by repeating them endlessly over many km's they often fly the coop. Carrying a pad with me...? In many ways I get lots of joy out of my running as well, will have to ask my psychiatris friend in the fatherland about a connection. Thanks for reading my poem Best wishes Herbert
A good poem about the writing process. Where do poems come from? They seem to be in the air for people to grab. I love the line fabricate new pleasure, I believe once a poet says something, it becomes the truth, even if it wasn't true the moment before.
Herbert, you've praised my brevity Equally, I'm astounded by your ability to 'let it all hang out, ' so to say. Yer dun gud. Have a peep at my First Publication poem, one of my longer? Cheers, Jerry.