"Its the first kiss of a denied love."

Its the first kiss of a denied love.
Tenuous, frightened,
kinda clumsy,
yet breathtaking
in its simplicity
and power.

The untouched page of a new book...
It's a smoooooth, creamy, soft, clean, open, virgin space.
It's precious.
It's untrod snow in the light of the morning.

It's what was there before Van Gogh's Starry Night
It's where Melville started, before "Call me Ishmael."
Every great work of art, whether it be poetry, drama, fiction
ALL began with this very same crisp clean Empty.

Staring at exactly that which Nietche did
And Jung
And Aristotle
And Whitman
And Hemingway

before they became immortal.

What can *I* possibly have to contribute
to this sacred place
that would place me even in the same breathing space
as Those Greats.

What gives me the right?
From where will my inspiration come?

And with my fingers white, crushing the pen
as it were a monstrous kind of evil, I wrote

"Its the first kiss of a denied love."

By Piper Jon
Originally posted
@ FLICKR.

Comments

[sb]

Beautiful! This poem takes my breath away!
sb

[Piper Jon]

Aw, thanks Stacey. That's very sweet of you to say! - Pj