Seize the phrase.
The one so beautiful it makes your brain hurt before
you can spill it to the page. Corral the words, and bid
them play follow the leader on these long white halls,
before they wander off into dark rooms of their own to
sulk and skulk about, poke skeletons back into musty
closets. Catch the wind and begin, knowing the lines
will come, as the sun and the moon vie for the sky. Try
to hold a letter up to the light, see through its thin veil,
turn it upside down, crush one edge, and beg it to sing.
Fling your heart out into the world, a boomerang caught
in a world fraught with ditches and craters and caves.
Steal these symbols and syllables and signs, crush them
fine between your fingers and smear them into your skin.
Cradle these keys and unlock your own tongue, free what
wants to stay, then capture it again in your net-less hands
and pin it like a butterfly to the page, before it flits away.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
Written for the first prompt over at NaPoWriMo:
http://www.napowrimo.net/2012/03/12-hours-to-napowrimo/
Gearing up for a busy, thrilling, exhausting, crazy month.
love this, a great response to the carpe diem prompt for the first day
“Seize the phrase.
The one so beautiful it makes your brain hurt” Gorgeous. I know just the ones. It’s the best pain ever. When you just recite the words over and over in your head so that you don’t lose them before you can get them down.
“they wander off into dark rooms of their own” Love the photographic elements in this.
“Fling your heart out into the world” Man, this is hard.
“crush them
fine between your fingers and smear them into your skin” Melting over this.
“free what
wants to stay, then capture it again in your net-less hands
and pin it like a butterfly to the page, before it flits away.” I love this whole section, especially that hyphen. It must just float in the air if it doesn’t require hands. But I suppose the net is the imagination. This is just stunning, my dear. Thank goodness for your archives. There are days when I must have your words or I’ll die.
I LOVE when you dig around in my innards. š Especially these old lonely ones. I like this one. Thanks for helping me read it again. And, as ever, love your comments.