Waiting near the words

Waiting near the whimsical words

Images whirl in my mind’s eye

My inner jukebox offers fitting chords

And melodies abound

A writer’s block may be a curse-

If this is what my soul prefers

I’ll stick to silent movies and their sound

Inspired by the never dull poetry prompt of november, this time coming from the fountain of Harper and always supported by Kathy Jacobs.

‘Poetry is waiting near the words’ is a quote from an interview in ‘De Groene Amsterdammer’ (a kind of ‘The New Yorker’ also known over here as ‘the elite’s own leaflet’) with the Dutch writer Marcel Möring.

Friend of life and beauty and foe of spoilers of life and beauty. Golden marriage. Grandfather. Pianist and micro poet. Dutch, European.

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