The Girton Poetry Group

Not Averse

Writing to explore

When I write a line I wonder

Just exactly where it came from

And if it’ll happen again.

If half-formed thoughts will drip

From the lips of this voice

Like saliva onto the paper.

The words and ink slowly

Seep deeper into the page, my skin,

Until they settle together

Nestled in a form I had not meant

Bringing a message I had not planned

Screaming in my mind for release.

Until I cry for things I never had

And laugh at memories I never made.

I can be a leader, a fighter,

A voice of reason, an echo

Of some thought you once had,

But couldn’t hold.

Yet, when I stare into reality

I see a blank white sheet, and withdraw,

Back to my drooling muse, because

When I write a poem, I can be

Just exactly who I mean to be

And then some.