i have nothing left to give said the muse

disconcerting news that forces my writer’s imagination

to find release in solitary thinking

in fantasies


words that propel me into ian’s blue hawaiian spiral wings

send me soaring over

red hot molten rock that burns the trees

winding through lush green valleys

forests that climb up steep cliffs where ropes

of sugar sweet white fizz cascade down

until my brain whirls like an airfoil

pours out novel words

new lines

to paint a story

like the goddess of fire gushes passion from her pit

and coats the earth’s crust in black

and silver

mahalo pele