I write while I drink.
Or drink while I write.
It’s like entering a void
To create from nothing.
Wrestling in the mind.
Will it come, will it flow?
Is there anything there?
A contest for the soul.
Like the matador, do I
Dare enter the arena,
Wave the cape, feel the
Presence of the bull?
Execute fine veronicas?
Or will I be gored and
Guts ripped out in defeat?
Or drink while I write.
It’s like entering a void
To create from nothing.
Wrestling in the mind.
Will it come, will it flow?
Is there anything there?
A contest for the soul.
Like the matador, do I
Dare enter the arena,
Wave the cape, feel the
Presence of the bull?
Execute fine veronicas?
Or will I be gored and
Guts ripped out in defeat?
Daniel S. Irwin, Artist, Actor, Writer, Soldier, Scholar, Priest. Graduate of Southern Illinois University/Carbondale, University of Georgia grad school drop out.
Retired military. Once worked with the criminally insane…but didn’t notice anything strange about the inmates. Has had work published in over one hundred
Magazine and journals world wide.
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