Black The Starry Sky

And how many times have I written someone off
only to find another pen in my grasp.

As an offering, the object transforms
from inanimate to the being,
held more intimate than satin
sheets know how to embrace a frame,
a pen as a gift to a writer is not simple, it
is no mere practical item,
the evaluation of selection
is so delicate for this reason.
The minimalist’s predicament:
let the narrative roll out as the universe calls
for or fight to forge a specific weapon from
the ink. At what point do the stories
transcend the page?

I find myself flipping through notes,
crisscrossing arrows across the journal
connecting semi-colons and juxtapositions
I hadn’t noticed naturally occurring
within the scribbling. Behind the fiction
a realization.

The unconscious of a tale will unpack itself
no matter how tight the journal bound.
I cannot hold myself in contempt
for letting the words find themselves.

Advertisements

Published by: Nic Jean

Nicole Jean Turner is an artist from the Greater Boston area with an affinity for vignettes, napping outdoors, and conversations that confront the human condition. She got her master's in writing at 21, and expects to pay off her student loans by age 87

Categories PoetryLeave a comment

Leave a Thought Below

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s