NaPo Day II

Lines of “fourteeners” or iambic heptameter.

“Armchairs in my brain”

Come heavily into my midst and in this sterile mind
Come sort the folds and pocketbooks of all I left behind.
It’s all just so and sharp and cold and filled with corners. Here:
Come douse the stacks of hardened facts and set fire to my fear.

The stodgy thoughts with pipes and beards which habitate my brain
May take their armchair theories and refrain to come again.
Cast fertile dirt o’er all the tomes which talk themselves to death
And let the wisdom bloom again which gives the spirit breath.

How heartily the bellows blow their tiny candle flames
Into a fire of nonsense which then stifles and defames.
So sort away the good of words which hasten truth to light
Enliven then the passion of a love meant to ignite.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s