Thoughts while facing the IPad


Searchers

Here we sit
Our neurons flowing in
Unusual creative ways
To imprint in ones and zeros
Our passions thoughts dreams
Loves hates and fears
On the ethereal vellum of the
New age
Our fingers no longer ink soaked
Our silicone pens no longer bleed indigo
Our candles are sterile screens
Devoid of soot and drip
But our themes are the forever stuff
Of endless searchers
From Ur and Babylon
To Soyus Columbia and beyond
All seeking the perfect phrase
That will illuminate
The crystal truth
Locked in our imperfect thoughts
Our poetry...the key



Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 558 times
Written on 2012-05-04 at 23:04

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Exactly. Well said, Joe.
2012-05-08


countryfog
Perhaps for most (though I am too old to change) the tools of craft have changed, but not the agony, and if we are fortunate, the ecstasy of trying to express what so often seems if not inexpressible then inarticulate . . . "the truth locked in our imperfect thoughts." There is still only one way to unlock them, the tools matter not, only the passion we are compelled to give a voice.
2012-05-05