Thursday, June 23, 2011

why poetry?

the top of today's to do list:
figuring out why I became a poet.

it was wheeling in my head
while i drove to work this morning.

less wheeling rather sitting still-
and waiting.

stoplights, and a sleeping dog
fall down into the street,


my impatience can only let the stoplights lie.


why this medium, i still wonder-

if i need so badly to unburden my insides-
why such feather-light abandon?

if i am so full of conversations, and stories-
why do i stick everything to fly-papery-metaphor?

maybe my life is made of too many breaks-
and little punctuation
maybe my speaking skills
elude less erudite

maybe my skin empty of decoration
is like the paper i tattoo with words.
Posted by at
Labels: ,

2 comments:

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Reach for the clouds. . .

Tickle your toes. . .

  • cryk
    there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
  • in dreams
    In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
  • self
    nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
  • where I went
    and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
  • last waking hours
    A woman's stance feet parted so that like a breezy window the mantle opened slightly lets in curves of salty air- but here there is no, ...
  • A girl in a shabby green coat, on a railway-station platform
    motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
  • turtle/dove
    secret fancies don't really bother me, alright? but know that once you tell me I become either like a turtle and snap my smile...
  • thoughtful hillbillies
    RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner....
  • small stones
    July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
  • John Wayne
    two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...

Poets United Contributor