Writing

                  Writing

Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

We crave a piece of writing that has prow,

And sails, and oars—and muscle power to
Impel it forward towards horizons now
Unknown but urgently imploring you
To stretch your brain and soul. The shoulders, and
The upper arms, and chests stretch out the pace

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To bays unguessed. They strain out from the sand
Of ordinariness and make us race
To queens and other loves for hands to grasp
On foreign shores, for widening of mind,
And lust, and all those other things men clasp
In biceps hard against their chests—and grind

Against as utter as the gods of every realm
Require. Provide a piece with such a helm.