my first instinct is alliteration

whenever a new mental hiccup begins to ferment

there is always an alliterative gasp

like mental gymnastics

keeping the tip of the tongue limber

most of the time it is erased

some days i will write using every letter and forcing five word lines of similar sounds

they are meaningless trash

occasionally there is a pattern

a rhyme scheme that falls into place halfway through

i’m forced to either adopt or scrap an entire piece for not maintaining the flow

it is like obsessive compulsive order on display

there is either a prescribed flow or chaos

it may only be visible to me

but i know it is there

the few feeble ones i don’t think are terrible are the ones where it is less the words and more the flow of them that appeals

the meaning is moot

meaningless in meaning as long as it forms the correct crystalline structure

but some weave a tale i don’t see until i actually read it

straight forward or buried deeply beneath the devices

some have a beat that i more sing the words to

some do not

those i despise

unless the overwhelming need shines through

i don’t have a process

no guideline

let the words do what the words will and hope it works

as i call out to the aether and wait for a reply

experimented with most of the classic formulae

to see if any were my cinderella slipper

means to an end but more ending than meaning

more content to chaos than stringent order

in others i see such beauty

the way they carefully make a ransom note out of letters and words

it inspires

but i don’t have what they have no matter how i wish for it

saddled with my own limitations and trying to do the best i can with faulty wiring and rusted tools

hoping to find a her that sees the me through the metaphors

the loaves may be misshapen

but it is the only way i know to bake the bread