Bigger on the Inside

Chimera Poetry

cosmic-dream-gun-legler
I may be small to look at
but I’m bigger on the inside
I am not very noticeable
don’t talk loudly
mostly keep my eyes down
or smile briefly and politely
but vaguely
since I usually don’t know exactly what you have said
I’m not paying attention you see
my mind is preoccupied elsewhere
to look at me
on the bus
or behind the desk
you’d never realise
the complex terraform inside my head
the vast spaces filled with action and color and art and projects and half crafted dreams
as well as some nightmares
and words, always words
you will never know but one phrase, one certain thing you said
as you walked past the table
or drifted under my window
struck me like a dart
and you have now been incorporated
into this poets multilevel world
a small mousy woman
painted in shades of largely unnoticed watercolors
who…

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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