Again I Move

Again I move, a little pen in a poet’s hand
inking love poems for a woman he does not know.

I do not dance for a woman’s sake.
Nor even for a poet’s frail ego,
(Threadbare and worn is that mask!)
neatly severed by an invisible blade
he cannot name.

No, I sing for unknown fantasy
and catalogue names of unnamed goddesses
as I ink love poems for a woman he does not know.

And paper, my accomplice, will bare colours
(Who’s, what's, when's and where's.)
and vibrant hues of idyllic passion
memory deems forgotten through the years.

I move for generations that may never understand.
I ink love poems for a woman he does not know.

by Keith E. Sparks Jr.

Comments (2)

I agree with you to a certain point, just don't go too far.
Adam and Eve, Moses and Zipporah, Romeo and Juliet, Mohammad and Khadija...this generation is long overdue. Go for it! Earth is but a fair in which to experience fantasy!