Traveling eastward (rough draft)

Traveling eastward
my pen is going to find
something new over there
(or old.) I found the Great Gatsby
and he seemed to be silent to me
as I keep traveling east

my pen is going east as I look east for morals on the previous page of my story
and instead I find people
who say nothing to me now
as I say nothing to them
yet I keep traveling east

and again
and again nothing

I think maybe I should travel west
as they are saying nothing to me as I keep going that way
and I travel west
d r a w r o f l e v a r t I d n a
but as you can see it takes much effort for me to travel forward
and my pen is not even facing that direction

so I stay, traveling eastward
writing words that have been previously written
piecing together new stories as I go towards the old
filling up the bottom of the page
but when will I rise from the platform I've built?

the above poem © 2006 by the poet whose first name is Alexander and whose last is Berrian; all rights reserved. So don't you even think about copying it.