My Craft

my craft 
is smelting words
and painting feeling
it's made of all the whispers of the world-
if you listen, you can hear them too
-and the dreams that go unseen 
song lyrics
and moonbeams
starlight
and sun dappled forests
the gray zone 
between wrong and right
me and you
black and white
my craft 
sketches ideas
with syllables 
and makes the impossible
possible, with bridges to reality 
my craft
is poetry. 
 

Inkpaw

VT

18 years old

More by Inkpaw

  • The Boxes In The Corner

    Looming over your shoulders

    Each stack higher than its former

    Every thought and every scrap

    Of an idea too scared to ponder

     

    Every moment that hurt

    Each minute that lingered longer

  • Inadequacy


    How do I push the words out
    From behind my taffy tongue 
    Thick with salty tears 
    And full of grubby thumb 


    I’m a child 
    Pretending that I’m numb 
    To escape the overwhelming feelings 

  • Paper Frogs

    Why

    When feet fall soft but quick 

    Does the hallway extend

    And the hot breath of whoever’s behind me feel hotter 

    Why do I stay pressed to the wall 

    Like a stubborn gruby sticker