By Martha Whitney Newman
Creativity
Mine comes spurts
It’s brevity becomes more evidence the more I exert
It doesn’t come for work
It can’t be taught as a skill
It’s more of a life feeling in the bones
It may amaze
May bring chills to the bone
May leave many reeling at the thought of such a feat
May awe and make multitudes look upon themselves for this gift
Becoming departed from themselves
Detached from their limitations
When they imitate and create new style
Then scoff at its simplicity
But come to the realization at that most precious thing
They’ve wasted
This voice or shall I say voices scream in accordance Denial Denial they shout for Denial but all the while permit the explicit for themselves
