Scribe Writes Alone

Charles Edward York


The scribe writes alone
By themselves 
On a blank paper landscape
Or an electronic desert
Emotional glyphs 
Disguised as inspiration 
Ideas unborn 
Await the hands of
An inspired voice to give
Life manifested in words.

It is a solitary existence
This phenomenon
A place of raw feelings
Syllables resonating 
Not dormant 
Waiting to rise up
A revolution of expression
A construction of conscience 
A revelation of dreams
On a precipice of
Sounds spinning phrases.

At 3 a.m. I stare into space
And suddenly it comes
Arriving without fanfare 
As a face with no name
A silent message
Takes shape
Out of liquid language
Never said or sung before
Lyrical and rhythmic
A labor of love, a fusion
Of passion and truth,
Prose and poetry.

Copyright © 2021 Charles Edward York
No part of this poem may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the author.*

  • Author: Charles Edward York (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 1st, 2022 01:14
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 10


  • dean langmuir

    Nice write,I think there is something special about 3am,take care

  • Charles Edward York

    Do you know the witching hour (3 am) always seems to kind of have a spell on a lot of creative people not sure why though.

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