Creativity Of The Mind

one thing with the mind is that
it never stops thinking
and this is something that i am really afraid of sometimes
this creativity that never rests
and so i dabble in poetry
and even short stories
i murmur to myself and muster some other ideas that always creep
like some grasses in my backyard
or dusts coming from nowhere landing on some
new furniture or stains that you wonder
where do all these come from?
i wonder. I wander. I move. My ideas move me
like
sometimes, i feel, so robotic, like what Robert sometimes feel
when he write a line or two and call it poetry.
something creeps in my heart and i am filled with desire.
i am afraid, i go out of bounds, and then you discover
dirt and shattered glasses
or i may not know it
you discover blood dripping from my hands
and to my surprise
i feel nothing.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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