I have been thinking a lot about the idea of being or not being a poet. I haven’t come to any conclusions about myself yet but I was inspired recently to try this style for which I don’t know the name (see, my inner critic is telling me if I were a real poet I would know what it’s called and my inner writer just shoved a dirty sock in the inner critic’s mouth.) It’s all one poem but, if the formatting comes across correctly on your computer, can also be read vertically as two almost separate poems.

This is just word play for me (as in I know it still needs work) but I thought I would share it to make up for a serious lack of posting from me lately.

Sometimes words
run
away
to
hide
leave me
free
to
be
denied
Sometimes words
wander
wild
like lost birds
then
fall
smother me
silent
as an
unmarked grave
Sometimes words
tangle
unseen
knots
in my mind
crush me
with
the weight
of untold stories
Sometimes words
battle
the past
no prisoners
no heroes
inked soldiers
wait for me
whispering
my name
now
now
NOW

Sometimes words
return.

Susan Taylor Brown — all rights reserved