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    Willow wrote a new post

    Mistmind

    words slip  in and out of thought tickling inspiration    then drift...   overwhelmed by their source they unravel wisping away from grasp   probably just as well...   takes more ink... than currently in possession let words refill the bottle while energy supply refreshens

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    • “takes more ink…

      than currently in possession”

      I have been feeling this a lot lately.

      • I think it goes back to the weight of the world these days. It takes so much energy to just survive…not a lot pouring into our cups. Thank you, Fia 😊

    • Feels like poetic intermission… a mist of words floating about
      I like the mood this invokes

      • Life is…a lot…these days. Intermission would be great, but who’s got the time? Thank you, Naaj 😊

    • Powerfully penned, Willow. Excellent write that I can definitely relate to my friend. Inspiration is sometimes a bit of a process indeed. Chasing thoughts and having them slip away can be so frustrating. The life of a writer is kinda quirky when you think about it. Nicely done as always. Appreciate you.

      Damian

      • The more we have on our the mind, the more jumbled it is up there. So polluted the words can’t find the exit. So they float around like wraiths on a stormy night. I’ll get my rhythm again. Just need a breather. Thank you, my friend 😊

  • Mistmind

    words slip
    in and out of thought
    tickling inspiration

    then drift…

    overwhelmed by their source
    they unravel
    wisping away from grasp

    probably just as well…

    takes more ink…
    than currently in possession
    let words refill the bottle
    while energy supply refreshens

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  • Profile Photo
    Damian DeadLove
    @damiandeadlove
  • Just Call It Quits

    Balding age of wisdom and the world grows oldHair continues to fall out, the truth has been toldI'll continue to repeat myself, hopefully it makes you forgetRunning on empty is rewarding, but not cool if you're on a jet Cataracts,...

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    4 Comments
  • The Blue Pool
    A young man sipped limoncello, in a bar in the village square,
    He was lonely and heartbroken, you would often find him there,
    His heart was filled with sorrow, he felt twisted and torn inside,
    When a waitress in a black dress, came and whispered as he cried,
    ‘Do you know there’s a blue pool, born out of the mountain str…Read More

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    2 Comments
    • While I fancy myself a romantic, I think I will avoid this Blue Pool. I have loved a few times and may never love again, but I think I do not want to play the fool. Her pool is enticing, her lips warm with arousal, but dear lady, I will remain on this stool. Sorry HJx, I hope you don’t mind where my mind went as I read your poem. -Curt

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