Blank Pages

New pages woo me
Blank. Open. Free.
New pages with old
Music folding on folds
Of my ears living
Vicariously being
Someone I can only
Wish to be.

Vapourized daydreams
Living as it would seem
On the cusp of reality
Oh how this page woos me.

New notevooks nearing
Insanity lusting leaving
My pen contorted
Ink splayed on pages thwarted
Poems splayed eagle
Heart growing feeble
Hand in frantic hand
Insanity
Oh, how these pages woo me.

Struck

Something struck me today
The power
Power and love and
          Saddness and guilt
          And elation
Of poetry.

It lives in me more now
I bask in its glow whether
       Or not that glow is
       Bright.
Because what these
        Words
Do for, to, with me
      Is immesurable.

I adore words (not
      Mine of course) but
      These letters forming
      Stanzas forming poems
        Lets my heart free;
I sail on the wind made of ink.