As Spring is now here, I think this poem, written on February 1st, is seasonally appropriate..
Do you remember when we used to catch tadpoles?
Their bodies slimy smooth and soft
Remember when we'd let them go,
After a little while?
They'd dart away quickly
Into the murky shadows
And we'd go home
Spattered in mud
Smelling of pond scum and fresh air and
Do you remember, now?
On March 11th, angry and frustrated with the state of the world as I often am, I wrote this poem, entitled Broken Pavement.
To find the secret way
Beside the voices-
Whispering of heretics
Mother Culture holds us close.
Walk the winding paths
Away from the highways,
And you can eat the cattails
Waving in the passing breezes.
Long grey hallways.
I’ll find the old buildings
By a stream that fish still follow.
While I watch beauty escape in-
The stars will find me.
And finally, I've been having trouble writing any poetry whatsoever lately, so though I don't even like the finished product much at all, I was very proud of myself for managing to get over that block and write this poem yesterday!
watching from behind the blinds
as someone rides by
blocking out the world with two small earbuds.
I know the certainty of holding back
like the boy on the bicycle
content in containment of Self
risk gets forgotten.
pushed carefully to the back of the closet
where I don't have to look at it
and can almost
forget it's existence.
dancing in confinement
starts to feel like freedom
after a while.
but risk is always there
even when I close my eyes tightly
thinking of warm places
and sweet darkness.
I feel the pull
for something spicy
sparkling eyes and bitten lips
strange streets and breathless laughter.
reality seems so mundane, sometimes.
Life something that happens
on the other side of the glass:
not for me.
I opened the door
just for a moment:
the sunshine smelled like adventure.
Thank you for reading! :-)