I keep trying to write
words that just don’t yet
exist within the pages
of my personal thesaurus.
My pencil keeps scribbling;
the rubber keeps trailing the
lead as the lines unroll
like a Turkish carpet
for some short-lived celebrity –
a lost smile unnoticed,
just a battery wasted
for a blunt camera flash.
Still, my pencil follows the rhythm –
a comma here,
a full-stop there
and an unwanted adjective
sneaking up behind
the one noun itself –
a word that doesn’t yet exist
and a blunt smile unnoticed.
Still, the lines keep unfolding
just like roses in spring,
but not red ones –
bleached petals like paper;
a dance-floor for my pencil –
a comma here,
a full-stop there.
Ending a poem of
unwanted adjectives...
