Choose your weapon... but write

On occasion
so moved by the spirit within
poetry becomes my devise
and complexities
sometimes
are rendered simple
while the simple become at times
more burdensome than ought.

Much the same
a pen and journal page is fine at times
but the pc seems a vehicle preferred
at others.

So much alike
are the life within
and the life of this world that
poetry so fittingly defines.

Lunar forces
and sweeping tides connect
to pull our senses in vast
mood swings that defy even a modern day
Freud.

Ha!
strangely it seems all folly.
What difference matters the blood type
of the penned poem

anyway. Equally is the ink of pens and
printers that gives flight to the ideas
of it's originator. Otherwise,
no one knows and the poet
may not recall tomorrow
the simplest
or the most complex. Lost,

and to others
never was.