Just an Expression

“Convergence” by Jackson Pollock, 1952 (credit: WikiArt.)

Just an Expression


I wish I could draw:

Give form to my thoughts

Relinquish all the chaos of my imagination

onto a page

for another’s to make sense of


I wish I could tap that




The fount of liquid fireworks inside my head

Let drip their colours into

paintings or sketches

Order the obstinate mercury into expression

I wish my fingers would obey

I wish that they could guide

and form

and shape:

I wish that they could squeeze all the world

into the tip of a pencil

the hairs of a paintbrush,

Then use it to



But my fingers don’t obey

I think we miscommunicate

My attempts at “art” resemble those

I made in 7th grade

If anything, they’ve regressed

I ask my hands to listen

but they protest


So: I wish I could sing

Let the Within




Let my body be an instrument to my soul

Reverberating with raw humanity

transmitting through the very air

that envelops us each

a song so sweet

it leaves you empty


But my voice sits in my mouth like rancid honey

it’s taste far from that of a melody


So: I wish I could write

stories so beautiful, poems so wonderful,

they move a reader to tears


I wish I could weave

characters’ destinies

into one flawless tapestry

make effective use of hyperbole,


and simile

Know how to turn a story on its head

While still fulfilling a hazily defined

artistic duty


But my whole being itches with frustration

at my ineptitude for creation

It’s like trying to find the words

to a language I’m only just beginning to learn


I wish to learn


I wish for my pen to be my brush,

for my soul to be my ink,

and my words to be my voice

As I attempt to order the chaos

of my imagination

into transmittable form


I need not impress

but wish only to express

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