WRITING AS I FEEL IT
Since tender days of my being;
scribbling in cub scrawls on nearest scraps;
I strived to be a scribe befitting such description;
to live to love to laugh and animate it all in words;
to exhibit not vanity but sanity in insane designs of creativity...
As child, I walked in dazed compositions of soaring dreams;
knocking on envisioned and imaginary doors of dreams;
daring my mind to pour into fingers and tongue;
hogged loads of stored and suppressed beetles of thoughts;
to savour for myself and share as literary appetites shall desire.
Now mature, in prime, prickly proud and prim yet not snobbish;
I dug high density wells of oozing emotions flowing like swollen rivers;
my tongue clicks in tones reminiscent of howls of lonely beasts seeking company;
my fingers move in dexterous thirst on keyboards of fact and fiction;
my mind no longer indolent yet not bereft of the wealth of childhood innocence,
creates fulfilling networks of arteries flowing with quenching waters of literature.
Hence now I can share, not just stare; create, not just berate; express, not suppress;
I am liberated, deliberating on every effort of reaching out, seeking and finding;
and when I do find contact, I want to lay my dishes on inviting, laden tables;
and share recipes of exotic dishes of poem or song or script or scrap as it may be;
in turn I receive as I give and indulge in the delicious nectar of sharing works of mind;
this then, is me now; was me then; shall be me so long as this brain breathes...for it does!
AUTHOR: Andrew Sesinyi
19th March, 2009.
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