Poems on Writing - Blackout Poetry Notes

My Words

My words
smoulder
in his heart.

Find your own ink and paper,
but will you have
enough to say?

I will write
no more
on the melancholy
of the future.

It will do me good
to write among
kind-hearted people.

I write of
hope to come.

You are an enigmatic reader,
the very reason why I
engage in my
method of thought.

Writing opens up deepest thought
and is a quiet glance
into my truth.

The emotional responses were unexpected results.
Naturally
we were hubristic.
We underestimate the complexity
the intensity
of poetry.

A certain quiet distraction
made me rather lax
with his cigars on the mantel
and a hundred books,
from sofa to table,
every corner stacked.

I couldn't stop.
I gave you poetry
to regulate the extremes.