In my writing, now that <br />The blocks of childhood <br />Have been recycled into <br />Kites that dance on the <br />Ocean breezes and into <br />The sunset of another <br />‘Aaah'-inspiring closure. <br /> <br />There are spectators and <br />Commentators and script writers. <br />I Am a writer who all-to-often <br />Comments when I should be <br />Writing it down and moving <br />It around on a paper canvass <br />Until some sense begins to draw <br />The focus of the mind's-eye. <br /> <br />Some people live in a bull's-eye <br />And with the tension that choice <br />Brings them. I have always been a <br />Rush-gush-wheew kind of guy who <br />Spent relaxation time reading, writing <br />And massaging imagination, about <br />NOW and the stress-nesting away. <br /> <br />There is a nakedness in openness <br />With a truthful balm that is poetic <br />To soul-consciousness and instructive <br />To understanding the diversity <br />Of the human condition. <br /> <br />A nakedness we clothe in <br />A fearful couture or in <br />Street-smart recycling. <br /> <br /> <br />2013<br /><br />Jim Boone<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-is-a-nakedness/
