Empty the words

   One by one the poems pour out of
me. The liquid fire blazing in my mind.
I find difficulty getting, placing all
the lines correct.

  Soften that phrase. Lighten up
that word. STOP! Too bleak! Dark
and raw. Empty the emotion to the
painted page.

  Lay down the hidden taste. The
colorless anger. Oh how the words
scream until some evaporated haze.
A mist to be known. To howl through
the spirit and throughout the soul until
an explosion is no longer contained.

  A burst of rambling. Senseless,
mindless run on sentences. Lost fragments
that would cause a red markers' dream,
fantasy.

  Oh yes the heartache. The anguish
sprayed, splattered across pages for
all eyes to try or tire of reading.

  My words roam the lines. No longer
soaking in brain fluid. Now igniting
in cool air.

  Exhale. Sigh.
          Now understand this: I write
       what exits my head to paper. No
       sense the words should make yet
       somehow they do.

  Genius? No!
        Artist? Absolutely!

   To this I am grateful Jehovah has given me
             talents.