Flash Literature, Poetry, Art and Photography!

Wither the Words




Philip Starck




He picked up the pen to write

Instead, sobbing, he hurled it

Remarkably striking with such force

To shed unwritten words

As droplets of diaphanous blue

Against the stark white of the wall.


He glanced again at her note

Lying, there upon the table

Apologies for broken promises

Little knowing that night she left

Taking more than just possessions

Taking his inspiration

His words!

Ripped right from his soul

To be left torn and bleeding.


Months of trying to speak again

Love, kinship even of hope

All drab, hollow words

Too laced through with sadness.


Another pen lay nearby

He reached for it

Intending that it join its fellow

The dried muted mural on the wall

But something held his hand

That which he thought lost

Only buried under layers of grief

Reached out!


He picked up the pen to write…








PHILIP STARCK resides in Waukesha, Wisconsin. He has written on and off for many years, his first poem written in the third grade! He has done readings at honorary events and colleges. He is currently working on compiling an audio collection of his works.
The motivation for this piece came at a time when I experienced a great loss in my life. The ability to write poetry seemed all but gone. The idea came rather suddenly while trying to work through this problem.