the thing i love
about poetry
is that you can write just about anything
and
as
long as you
space it out creatively,
it transcends mere
words. or at least
it feels that way.
~~~
it also helps
if you
write
in all lower-case letters.
~~~
i know
this is crap. but now i will attempt
to write some actual
poetry. i’m feeling
inspired.
~~~
ready?
here we go.
~~~
your face, so hard and cold
your fists, clenched tight
the betrayal, o!
the betrayal.
what kind of blog post is this? what hath this tuesday morning wrought?
the fire rages inside.
the fire rages inside.
~~~
i am going to go out
on a
limb
and say that i actually like that poem, as ridiculous as it is.
there’s something about
repeating lines
that pleases me.
that pleases me.
~~~
thank
you.
~~~
I will do better
next
week.
~~~
I love you
all.
Instead of a comment, a quote, from Billy Collins:
the trouble with poetry is
that it encourages the writing of more poetry,
more guppies crowding the fish tank,
more baby rabbits
hopping out of their mothers into the dewy grass.
And how will it ever end?
unless the day finally arrives
when we have compared everything in the world
to everything else in the world,
and there is nothing left to do
but quietly close our notebooks
and sit with our hands folded on our desks.
The rest can be found here.
Thank you, Tim for that
comment.
I know this
post
wasn’t really worthy of it.
For that reason
I
am
deeply
appreciative.