My Pen...

My pen, will write...my pen

will fashion new realities,

my pen will

spread her thighs and birth;

my pen will birth HIS

factualities...my pen,

will write!
my pen will etch new mornin's on
the broad back of
my mind...gentle
characterizations of
carrying the
timeless
through small holes of
latent goodness...i will write...my
pen will write
like solar flares lifting their skirts against
ash, black skies..
my pen will write...
my pen...
will release herself...give herself
my pen will
run after words..mating...strange
flirtations..between the curves
of my pen vis a vis
the smooth ivory of paper...my
pen will
saddle smiles and grip the reins of fabrication
to fabricate...
my pen will relate
any and everything,
songs pouring for any
and everyone to sing...my pen will
sing the loudest
of things that don't matter and things
that hold more matter and
some that are less...
my pen will
substance...and abuse substance
will use
her stance to release
the cadence of mankind's story....
my pen will etch the details
of deity's glory
my pen
will
write brazenly and sometimes
write coquettishly...my pen
will mae west
and scarlet o'hara
my pages....my pen will vindictively scrawl
propaganda...promote
wicked whiplash
and invoke images of Los Angelos...my pen
will write...my
pen will birth ink stains like
labor pangs that
push, that strut and fret their
time in syncopation
tap dancing across the cerebral
leaving hemorraging visions of loose good times
and touching moments of
one on one
sole soul conversation....
my pen...
chiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllllllddddddd, i said my
pen...will write...my
pen...
will write.

~bloodspeaks