Inside my noisy mind.

I may be quiet on the outside
But on the inside I am deafening.
In the forest of my mind
Creeks of color merge
With ponds of palettes
That feed into the ocean
Of visual possibilities.
Along the shore, musical notes roam
As they rearrange themselves
In arrangements sometimes dissonant
But other times harmonious
With haunting melodies worthy of creation.
In the sky, clouds of words drift freely
To form random sentences
Sometimes making no sense
But other times spelling out ideas
For my next great novel.
So the next time you see me looking quiet,
I’m really not.

Advertisements

Tags:

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: