Pointing fingers

The sun needs to come back out
for I am clinging to the
dross of the morning, and
I am breaking my own heart
every time I consider
who you are

An ominous hand it is that grabs mine
pushing the pen to the oblique
each lovely sentiment
drawn in hearts and flowers
urged to its brink

Who will fault the artist’s model
for the work
seeping black paint
the carpet soiled by rotten thoughts
surely you see every
forced wish

Lengthy courtship with success
wasn’t I smart
didn’t I choose it
my red slip showing
each evening and you
whispering
yes
this is life

14 thoughts on “Pointing fingers

    1. Wow..thank you so much, and for your other thoughtful comments also.
      So when I go to write, they fly out of my mouth and pen and i write very impulsively. Then later I look at it again and start moving phrases and words around and fixing it up and cutting, cutting, cutting.

      The last 2 / 3 poems are from 2014, after some repair work ^_^ Lovely to hear from you.

      1. I work very much the same way, though back when I first started writing poetry as an adult, I was very bad and thinking the first stuff to be written down was good enough and now I’m much more circumspect.
        Oddly enough, I seem to work more diligently with the haiku because my perfectionist personality won’t allow me to mess up the syllables or even a punctuation mark. (I noticed for some inexplicable reason today’s haiku ended with a comma, and I could not have that!)
        My other forms of poetry are released to Chapter and Verse, but only sporadically.
        I will enjoy exploring all of your endeavours. Yes, I am indeed “thrilled”.

  1. I literally will not attempt to write a novel because of my fear of punctuation in dialogue. You’d think a middle-aged woman could overcome this fear, but so far, I have not. Perhaps an old woman will make a better novelist. ; )

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