Open up this ink bottle
Let it spill on the paper
See how the black becomes tendrils
Vine reaching out to the wind
To pen nutrition to the harvester
Sweet connection in seedless swallows.
Throw the stopper
Damn it to the incinerator
For impeding the flow
Of sweet red wine
Delaying seduction
Intoxicating
The fertilization of bored minds.
Filed under: Existentialist Poetry, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, Writing, relationships, thoughts , communication, connecting, discrimination, inhibitions, loneliness, tolerance, understanding
Nice existentialist poetry lines, tomachfive. Particularly like the underlying thought.
Oh, another existentialist! There’s not enough existentialists in the world.
i like this, especially the last three lines…
this one’s edible…
Finally, you’ve spoken on this…appreciate it really a lot. Take care!
this is an intriguing poem !!
thank you! i’m glad for your visit.
delicious.
sarah
thanks. I appreciate it.
Beautiful poem seems to transition from writers block, to a creative unfettering of the pen. I am adding it to my literary tattoo collection.
It could be that the mind is only recharging, refreshing itself. Thanks for dropping by!