Treasure Island

jason brierly

It's all in the name

Pointless and aimlessly,
The poet takes flight.
Unaware at the moment,
Of what he will write.
The precursor begins the flow,
The go,
'He knows that he wants to write',
Yet doesn't quite know,
What avenue of creation to take.
And surely
As the creek will rise,
Creative juices aplenty,
His art takes form
As ink meets with paper,
With a little help from a friend,
The words woven intricate,
Lay out a form unknown.
Interlocked and likened literature Of a duly noted nonsensical.
Deep and steeped
In stark contrast
From the norm of poetry,
My flowetry takes form.
'How B?
Words so intricate in flow? '
'A mad man's internal',
I say.
Thirty years in the making,
A mad man's nonsensical
Takes on,
In a busy mind of mine.
Thought odd and weird,
A style unique;
A story of epic proportions unfolds
As a knightly troubadour led astray,
Cuts a lyrical hand,
Opens his mind,
And in doing so,
Opens a vein of creativity
That spews forth...
Little upper thought,
The proverbial flood gates
Of my mind open,
And with a thought,
Brain sends message
Through billions of electrical signals.
Message sent down wire,
Through arm into a hand,
Weak and weary
From hours of holding this pen.
At this pen
The electric signal stops.
From there,
The ink dances a waltz
Across a once blank paper,
Not so blank.
An ink released
To paint upon this canvas,
A picture unseen.
A picture is worth a thousand words?
Picture this...
My words
Are worth a million images.
Images that,
Through a sequence of words
Rendered upon parchment,
Intricate in detail so...
And meaningful,
That images grow
And appear upon the mass's,
Impressionable mind.
Like this....
'The lovers entwined, legs interlocked. A love so deep; a love so inspiring and moving unknown. Two souls merge as one... heartbeat... breath in unison, and from between one's lips, under breath, and heartfelt, the verbal archer takes aim, and release... 'I'... slowly and quietly... 'love'... fluidly into the ear canal... 'you'... to vibrate ever so soothingly, reverberating upon the ear drum. A lover's passion so great. Doing a dance of passion... forever locked in a soul mate's embrace...'
As my flowetry free form
Becomes the image in your mind
And you see the two
Entwined in prose,
You heed the gravity of my words
The words aflow,
To impress upon your mind
'Million picture, flicker show',
And you realize,
Truly within...
'A mad man's nonsensical'?
Truly not nonsense.
With that,
A lovely picture is painted,
For fear of over doing
With verbal vomit,
Intricate B...
must part...

Intricate B

Submitted: Thursday, October 03, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 04, 2013

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