%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Campfire Creative >> Poetry >> Entertainment >> ID #1591543 |   |
| |||||||||||||
| [Introduction]
My Hand When my hand picks up the pen Lyrical words and prose begin It sings of things past and things to come It starts with a preposition, noun or even a verb Then come the rhythm together with hand’s words Words like notes from Coltrane’s horn One after another, syllables flow until a song is born I can hear the sound of its melody in my dreams At my awakening my hand is geeked. On ten and anxious Got a mind of its own Unrestrained artistic movements That goes on and on and on It calls to my brain ”Feed me more words” “Feed me more rhymes” Hand with its pen responds All day sometimes Damn hand! You kind of out of control! But the more hand writes, the more she soothes the soul Hand knows just what she’s doing When she picks a pen Cause no matter what, she will create Whatever the inspiration is, Whether its love, politics or the gulliest of sex, When hand picks up her pen, Who knows what’s next. So hand has been given an eternal mandate Write Delicious words to bring ecstasy to your ears, For years and years, and years and years. |
|
This item is currently blank. |
 Log In To Leave Feedback |
Static Items
Books
Forums
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
