Sep 20
wondering about rain's picture

An ode to the perfect poem

Oh velvet black keyboard
you span my mind for miles,
rolling up and down waves
of imagination, you ride that
perfect endless sea.
Oh not quite good enough
half crumpled paper you have
the inner cogs laid out ready to 
click click, and assemble.
Don't bother with that pink 

pencil end you, are immaculate.
Slip on that sonnet and dance
under a sky I made for you,
maybe tomorrow you will 
pull on your best rondeau just
for me. Finally let your wild
spider spun hair flow free and
tear off your iron shoes nobody
really liked that much anyway. 
Those headphones,

Confidently they tell you the
story of The Cure and XTC as
your fingers skate their way across
letters, making magic like
a pianist makes magic, like a 
magician makes magic. 
No one can dare say that
moonlit pond no one
even understands how it
got there, was anything less
than a godamn miracle.