Posts
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That One Summer Night (that was forever once)
It wasn't hot for once. Ohio remains hot every summer but the night seems to be like cold water poured over a fire pit:
the heat lightens up but the smoke of it hangs in the air, the remnants of what it was before.
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Come and See
Your God is not my God. Stay with me now, I know this makes your hackles rise, your hands raised in the spiteful fear that you could be challenged. The fear of fraud.
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Don't Mean Nothing
There was cedar in the beginning and then there were candy canes.
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Attempts at Love
Potato soup, three ingredients but I added four
Potatoes, cheese, broth and something a little more
cringey action I know, confusing recipe I know
I know. -
Repetition - Sisyphean Poetry
Sisyphean poetry - a repeat of the same set of lines where every time a line gets added or taken away it starts at the beginning again - a poem that can never end and never be entirely complete
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Oh Carbine Cows Come Home
There's a haze out in the meadow before the cattle graze,
settled slow and clean and shining like a glaze,the cattle move on in as the dew begins to dry,
the haze clears up fast like a tear in the eye.
Loves
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Greek Tragedies
oh Icarus, you poor thing.
fell in love with the sun, the sky-
paid the price, i suppose.why do we always pay the price for love?
Orpheus, lonesome poet,
lost his love because he wanted to tell her they'd made it. -
Gaea and Her Children
As I sit in the grass a sense of magic overcomes me. The mother of all, Gaea, is here.
I can’t see her, but I feel her presence everywhere. She is crying, sobbing, mourning her lost children, the trees, the birds, the bears, the flowers.
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Vulnerable
At school
we're doing a poetry unit.
"Oh cool, we write poetry all the time!"
My friend says.
What we didn't realize, though,
was that the teacher turned on the tap
to our inner selves
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I'll try.
I have never been a poet,
But for you I will try.
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Technically...
Technically, I’m an immigrant;
I wasn't born here.
Technically, I’m too young,
just shy of a year.
Technically, I’m inexperienced,
barely know the rudiments.
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A tribute to my favorite poem
Based on the poem "This is just to say" by William Carlos Williams.
I have drunk
the tea
that was on
the counter
and which