Creativity, a poem by Glynn Sinclare at
Benjamin Lambert



written by: Glynn Sinclare



I strike my flint,
until the sparks they fly.
My thoughts swerving,
in the recesses of my brain.
Electrifying, searching,
Nexus mode,
of arts and music.
Uploading programs,
swirling nouns and verbs.
Encoding new words,
tuning new connections,
neutrons to receiving cells.
Grasping at phrases,
pulling together.
Hunting for that perfect poem,
dancing in my mind,
a sober thought.
Creating poems and prose.
Perfection just out of my reach.
I sit alone, my comfort,
is in the written word.
When I am happy,
with the ebb and flow,
of a new creation.
I Go to press.

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