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my misbehaving poetry

by Daniella Sciuto & J Matthew Waters

a mess of discarded words
surround the waste paper bin
a screwed up frustrating mishmash
of misbehaving poetry
sent to Coventry
the current state of affairs
keeps missing the mark
ideas bouncing off rims in silence
not even a dead klunk
to rattle my soul
to let me know
if I more accurately honed my aim
matched that rhythm zigzagging
in and out of my own personal alphabet
if I took an occasional Z
rhymed it with W instead
attached it to an A, B or C
would poetry suddenly
work for me

exhausted I pause
stare deep into the double-hung window
a handful of flies
trapped between the panes
gasping for fresh air
crawling and buzzing
schizophrenically searching
for the only way out
watching me in a frenzy
weighing up the worth
over-thinking the import
of a few lonely words
which my pen decides
to frantically override
in indigo ink

the day turns to dust
water turns to wine
turns to blood in a trice
I raise my ancient chalice
toasting and praying
to the poetry gods on high
for an ounce of inspiration
as I drift into stars
the night showers reams
of words falling free
my pen and my paper
and my mind all three
collaborate with the gods
to write dream poetry

in the morning I awake
feel the words as they bleed
dead flies on the sill
empty paper
empty pen
an empty state of mind


This is the third poem in a series of three originally published by ArtiPeeps in their “FreeVerse” Section

october two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved