Sometimes they spill off my pen,
Vivid images color blank pages.
Sometimes they come tangled with
cliches, meanings hidden in
Triteness demanding discipline.
Sometimes they don't show at all,
Shy or stubborn, they have to be
Coerced, bribed, threatened, cajoled.
Where do they come from?
Who do they belong to?
Surreal images scream color,
Words run at me,
Fly past my head in a blur,
Catch at my mind,
Force their way through me.