drained the whole barrel
not a drop spilled, every letter
etched into my heart,
the lines already fading
filled to overflowing I
release myself fully my
thoughts to tears, tears to ink
heart splashed along the page
myself became
the missing link, poured
all inside emotions growing
the scratching quill, it kept me
going
left alone I’d scarce contain them
broken, pouring forth
released and rearranged
this ink it serves to heal me
bequeathed an oath of black
and blue, my lids are windows
shining through, the faintest
trace of long lost longing
my heart the inkwell
dipping in, the words spill
down and out across this page
until at last my eyes close
as Morpheus’ kiss it is I chose
the stranded lines they pour
again, into and from, beyond
my reach, the pillow had
some dreams to teach.
©️Matthias Grupe & tara caribou – 2018
We were chatting about how draining writing can be on a writer. Sometimes it’s a release of every drop of emotional energy within us and then we crash. Matthias suggested we write about it instead of just talking about it. Ha! … … … So, I really enjoy his writing over at lunarpoet. Go check him out okay? This guy weaves some lyrical magic.
Let’s do this again sometime. It felt really good, the flow of words between us, not even once uneasy or strange. I thoroughly enjoyed that. 💚
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Yes! Very much so!
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Your writings tend to speak your heart, while I border often on the whimsy. Words are they in whatever form, just with different tastes and impressions.
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Another great poem. I really love both of your blogs 👍🏻
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Awesome. It was good working with him.
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Jesus, this is beautiful. I started to list my favorite parts, but the whole piece is amazing.
I hope you’re doing well, Tara.
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Thanks B. Just a little late night snack we cooked up…. although I think maybe it was afternoon for him… eh. Ahh the wonders of the Internet.
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Reblogged this on hands in the garden.
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