with out washi

paper 

washi 

washing  up 

on a deserted shore 

what I need 

liquified then dryed tree core

on which ink may bleed 

on which graphites soft caresses leave trails 

on which letters might arange themselves in a formation of  infromation

paper boat bobing on waves as it sails

for the artist and my mind

a leaf of paper is akin to a dream

potential to become anything when there is inspiration

but inspiration with out the paper is a sun with out a sky

No books to gain new knowledge or show me other worlds

No paper on which to draw out ,

what I see

what I think

what I know

brewing sense of despiration

my mind an ever growing cacophany of ideas thoughts senses, see, heare think invent, record figure out problem why where what when scratch itch to draw doodle scratchwritingrecordbutterflyhowthelighthitsthewatermustdrawhowdosealizz=zerdcreep123howaretheydooingtherewhatdidithinkyesterdaydjggdsafdaj

my mind whould overlode

my hands itch

to fold

to draw

to wright

my eyes to see and read

my mind to know and order what I know and to record what I know

thus I cannot live with out my washi

paper

washi 

washing 

washing up on shore 

windfilled sails

of my paper sail boat

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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