The Process

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    The Process

      
    The Process
     
    Pacing
    Back and forth
    Back and forth
    Pacing
    Thoughts and words are a little hazy
    Maybe it the clock
    Tick, tock
    Tick, tock
    My feet carry my to a different room
    Where I resume
    Pacing
    Soon thoughts start racing
    “it is about time I pick up my pen”
    “where,,, how do I begin”
    Pacing
    Pacing
    Stop
    Words start to rush
    Someone interrupts
    I wish they would hush
    Can’t let my words escape
    I write with speed
    Before another piece is freed
    Done, finished
    Sitting, relaxing, thinking
    In my mind somewhere
    I know a masterpiece is there
     
    A.Lewis
    Tuesday, June 23, 2009

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    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    ChinaLewis’s Poems (11)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    CHITCHAT 3 03/31/2010
    untitled 1 09/14/2009
    What it would feel like 3 07/17/2009
    The Process 0 06/27/2009
    Push, It is Time 2 06/06/2009
    Darkness 3 06/06/2009
    Had to Run 2 06/06/2009
    until next time 1 06/06/2009
    untitled 0 06/06/2009
    My Pilate instructor 1 06/06/2009
    Invade 12/27/08 0 06/05/2009
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