imagine swimming in a lake of ink
as the cool color washes over you,
skin stained black...
does it feel so different now?
feeling the pens emotion scrape against your soul...
now there's no going back...
And after swimming in that ink, I think
I should never want to swim again...
For I always fear that I will sink
submerged in the pain inside the poets pen
and my weary eyes, and heart, now torn,
ripped by the claws of darkness,
that lurked in the shadows of that writer's mind,
so destroyed, but beautiful...
fiercely faded with time.
stabbed in the back,
i feel the pain they show with pen,
and swimming in that lake of language...
i feel our sorrow become one.
can you imagine?
(Editorial commentary: Emily sent me a e-mail basket of poetry. I felt like posting at least ten of her poems as winners. But I chose the above because I especially like poems that are about the writing process. And if I had one word to describe this poem it would be: powerful! Congratulations, Emily! Write on!)
Past Winners: