Writing Poetry

January 6, 2017 admin No comments exist

It is madness if you think of it
to sit and let in swirling
tidal waters held suspended
by some invisible wall and
loosened so the whole discarded
mess old sneakers and needles
and building materials and love
and suicide notes rushes in
so that if you’re lucky or
both fortunate and blessed
to end up on your ass
you find things poking out
of every pocket that make
mysterious claims.

NOTE: Revised on 1/15/2017

####

PREVIOUS VERSION:

It is madness when you think of it.
To sit and let it all in. The rushing
tidal waters held suspended by
some invisible fence and let loose
so the whole discarded mess
old sneakers and needles and
building materials and love
and suicide notes (that you
never recognize as your own)
blasts in so that if you’re lucky
or perhaps both fortunate and
blessed to end up on your ass
you find things emerge from
every pocket that offer
themselves as gifts never
to be rightly requited.

####

Poet’s Notes:

Written recently, but the draft has not been located (it’s in my place somewhere).

If you feel strongly about this poem, leave a comment (further) below.

Please like & share:
Writing Poetry 1

Leave a Reply