Words

All it takes is the right piece of music

And the words, they come rushing out

Spilling roughly onto paper

In my head delivered as a shout

The beat gives me rhythm

The bass is the pounding pulse

Somehow the words emerge

From some deep subconscious impulse

To speak

To communicate

To tell the world

What I feel

To give you sight

Of my emotion

The urge to create

My words replicate

All it takes is a moment of derision

And floods of letters emerge

Presorted concepts, nouns and verbs

Their meaning once submerged

Deep within my being

Deep within my vibrant soul

Ideas forming and silently screaming

To resonate in birth, almost whole

To speak

To communicate

To tell the world

What I feel

To give you sight

Of my emotion

The urge to create

My words replicate

For in the beginning was the word

And these are words of power forming

Ideas in your head from mine

Images arising of a new creation dawning

Words seem so banale and limp

Yet their power flows and grows

Words are acts of divine creation

They are kernals of whatever grows

To speak

To communicate

To tell the world

What I feel

To give you sight

Of my emotion

The urge to create

My words replicate

 

 

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