A Medium’s Fierce Expectations
for a Poet of Love
Inspired by this Image
Healing in his dungeon, with no food, water or oxygen
The Poet wrote through his hell
He bled out
Naked on the page
He tore through his grief with grit and vengeance
Praying to move swiftly through it
Until, knocked down,
he was humbly reminded:
Grief always wins
Consuming all Poets
Until every last ounce of emotion is squeezed out
Beethoven’s keys blasted loudly from the phonograph,
aligning with the strokes of his typewriter
as he furiously created poems of heartbreak from his core
Head buried in the alphabet
Paper upon paper falling to his feet
In a perfect rhythm
Just like the symphony playing to his ears
Poetic art, heals the dark
Finally….
Broken
Yet whole again
He emerged from his cave
He walked outside and dropped into freedom
Sun on his face
Hope in his heart
He wandered the world, coffee shops,
and places where dreams were created
Landing in the Steirnwirth Bar
A Texas hotel, a historic former brewery
Oh, if the walls could tell a story like poets,
he thought
Feeling a Force 💃 descend upon him
A blond Medium appeared near
Assertive in her wisdom
All knowing in her verse,
for she too had learned the ways
A vessel from the Universe perhaps?
She paused a few feet from him
She didn’t speak
But he heard her
Messages become clear
His love was so big it could only be given to the best of the best
For it would drain him every time
But that women existed
who would fill him right back up in reciprocation
She promised him
And he was deserving
He should expect love, always
For clearly this is what his essence was made of
Love and dreams
The Poet was promised this to be true
As breeze passed by whispers of blond hair
and no more despair
This Medium also spoke of evil, and warned him
Choose wisely my dear Poet
She told him,
never hold back,
always speak your truth
Ah… he acknowledged, always be Fierce, yes?
Exactly, she whispered.
And poof with that, she was gone
Wait, did he imagine her? This fair Medium?
Though he could have sworn as he left the lobby grounds
he heard a valet gentleman calling after … Miss Fierce?
Dreaming or not, he was ready again.
He set out to scour the land,
because despite being jaded,
he still believed in love
Little did he know, that at the other end of his edge,
women had been preparing for years
This was it
These goddesses stepped out from the other side, and were already walking towards his heart
Ladies and gentlemen, get your pens ready…
Inspiration is coming!
Thanks to Kathy Jacobs for the weekly project and Heath ዟ for the prompt:
Expectations
As well as the inspiration, the modeling, and of course the chance to meet my poethero🤗
Come play!
— — - and check this book out hot off the press.
