I always know
I always know
when poetry enters my soul.
I do not know it by sounds,
a sagging door,
the metal to metal squeak
that announces an entrance.
It the the sultry dance
words do, as they seek
me, tempt me to write more,
having made their rounds
again, crawling across my soul,
my carpeted emotions, I always know.
those rhythms,
patterns,
the come to me
dance moves,
and their bump
and grind,
will win.
I will write.
I always do.
I write them
on impulsive lines,
for it is romance
they seek while I
celebrate love
for them
and their dance.
6 thoughts on "I always know"
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I love a sultry dance where words bump and grind. That’s the fun part! Well done once again!
Thanks, Sylvia, words are the building blocks of poetry, prose, and fiction. I choose the ones that bump and grind over the static ones every time.
For me it is always the first line–it will not be denied and the not know where it comes from is probably the best part, because then I am never quite sure where it might want to go.
I like your analysis of this very much, K. Bruce…
I love the image of “crawling across my soul.”
I think crawling across my soul came immediately as I wrote this. Thanks for liking, Gaby…