Furor Scribendi

Thomas W Case



A tenderhearted rage flows from my
pen, like the Mississippi River after six
months of a hard rain.  
Suffering released, I long
for peace, as I grab the pen like
a junkie grabs the syringe, like my
very life depends on it because it
probably does.

The passion that flows within
my veins give a voice to my
soul when the pen vomits
words on the paper, like a
drunk the morning after a
night on the town, trying to
drown the memory of her.

I'm bent on writing because the
world's dim lighting cast shadows on
everything that mattered to me.
I'm shattered you see by
circumstances beyond my control.
Life just seems to roll right over me,
but I take my plight with the fight of
a soldier, whose battle cry is:
furor scribendi, a rage to write; because
in the revealing comes the ultimate
healing and that fucking light will
never die.

  • Author: Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 24th, 2024 11:32
  • Comment from author about the poem: Latin for, a mania for writing. (Furor Scribendi)
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 21
  • Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments8

  • sorenbarrett

    This was so raw and the wording with images and metaphor were so clever. Several good lines in this piece.
    "I grab the pen like
    a junkie grabs the syringe,}
    " the pen vomits
    words on the paper,"
    Great work

    • Thomas W Case

      Thank you so much. I appreciate it.

    • 2781

      The Agony and the Ecstasy.

    • Teddy.15

      The passion that has gone into here makes me believe every word but your last words are the ones I think I believe with all my heart, a magnificent might of percervence and yes, it shows in all the words you write. To give up is to lay down and die so to speak, I love this dear Thomas. 🌹

      • Thomas W Case

        You are the best dear Teddy. Thank you for your kind comment.

      • Neville



        Tis an affliction suffered with a passion and for which there is no easy cure .. Enjoyed a hell of a lot sir ..

      • orchidee

        Bit of French there again.
        And the last line but one: 'pardon my french!' lol.

      • Goldfinch60

        That rage on the page is so meaningful Thomas.

        Andy

      • Cassie58

        Once it gets a grip, there’s no turning back and no possible cure. Great read Thomas. Happy Saturday.

        • Thomas W Case

          So true, thanks for your read and comment.

        • Bobby O

          Declarative. If there exists a wiggle of doubt it’s too small to measure. It’s instructs or maybe Leads?



        To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.