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Poetry

Poetry

When armed with an arsenal

Of ideas bigger than bombs

And words that are piercing as arrows

Quivering

With swelling anticipation

Like the tide, it crests

 

When faced with a blank white page

You wait for the explosion

The crash of the ocean wave

It destroys the castles you have built

But you call it

Creation.

 

Emily Faison

One Response to “Poetry”

  1. Cliff Weber says:

    Emily– this poem is fantastic. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve attempted to encapsulate the spine-tingling feeling of a blank page and how often I have failed. The second stanza is really fucking great, I can’t say enough about it. One thing though– capitalizing every line, at least for me, softens the crash of each ocean wave in its conformity. It only distracts me from the beauty of your words. As does the lack of punctuation. But like I said– lovely stuff.

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