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Thursday 29 September 2016

Writing As A Pick Me Up Cure

This morning, even with the
Sunlight, and Tumblr’s fabulous
Pictures, I could become morose

It is what I do, with or
Without you, with or without
That great poet Pablo Neruda

This morning I am aching, it
Is a pain I carry, after the
Terrible falling

It is what I do, with or
Without you, with or without
That great painter Mark Rothko

This morning I am dishevelled
In an untidy room, that is painfully
Slow on the road to progress

It is what I do, with or
Without you, with or without
Those great meditation teachers

This morning I hear the birdsong
And pick up my fountain pen
At least then, as when with you, I am happy


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