I'll keep updating as more come.
I'm very much a private poet. That is, words and order will have meaning that in most cases only I will understand. It may seem odd to you, dear reader, but being a private poet is much more engaging. Besides, most of the great poets are/were private poets. =) That said, if you'd ever like an explanation of anything - a word, theme, title - feel free to ask. I'll do my best to explain. But I'd also advise taking from the poem what you will. Coming up with your own meaning to another person's work can be cathartic in a special way.
Gold(I don't like the title)
What could it have meant to you?
It means too much to me.
You don't share such things
only to shatter the corresponding realm of meaning.
She's taking a while.
I left a surprise boquet of calla lillies in her room.
Those are her favorite.
But gold has more potential than flowers.
She doesn't like her fingers. I think they're beautiful.
-----------------------------
written for poetry class, as a poem based on an image of our choice.
http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u127/joshisrad2/spoon.jpg
http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u127/joshisrad2/spoon1.jpg
__________________________________________
(a freewrite)
sink or swim
It came upon me like a hailstorm; numbing and disorganized, though with clear direction. Burning up, I felt I might vomit. And with that same ounce of pathetic control, I was able to repress my desire to give our voyeuristic audience what for.
It was upon that ounce that I rebuilt my foundation of self. What little I had to work with somehow multireplicated and turned itself into a fortress of emotional repose.
We have to float before we swim and spit before we speak. Yes, dear, your fears are valid. But floating, I've learned, is not the first step towards failure.
__________________________________________
damage control
a poem even in
barest of metaphor
says too much
of loves, hates,
doves and dates;
an unspoken desire for
the elusive crown
that would announce
triumphantly
I own this woman.
so now will be told
obsession-
not stalking,
not creeping by
and detailing your existence
with a shrine of
dim lights
collecting the ordinarily mundane;
but light upon the senses,
deep and though without weight
as passion;
obsession healthy
as man was
born to know.
I'm very much a private poet. That is, words and order will have meaning that in most cases only I will understand. It may seem odd to you, dear reader, but being a private poet is much more engaging. Besides, most of the great poets are/were private poets. =) That said, if you'd ever like an explanation of anything - a word, theme, title - feel free to ask. I'll do my best to explain. But I'd also advise taking from the poem what you will. Coming up with your own meaning to another person's work can be cathartic in a special way.
Gold(I don't like the title)
What could it have meant to you?
It means too much to me.
You don't share such things
only to shatter the corresponding realm of meaning.
She's taking a while.
I left a surprise boquet of calla lillies in her room.
Those are her favorite.
But gold has more potential than flowers.
She doesn't like her fingers. I think they're beautiful.
-----------------------------
written for poetry class, as a poem based on an image of our choice.
http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u127/joshisrad2/spoon.jpg
http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u127/joshisrad2/spoon1.jpg
__________________________________________
(a freewrite)
sink or swim
It came upon me like a hailstorm; numbing and disorganized, though with clear direction. Burning up, I felt I might vomit. And with that same ounce of pathetic control, I was able to repress my desire to give our voyeuristic audience what for.
It was upon that ounce that I rebuilt my foundation of self. What little I had to work with somehow multireplicated and turned itself into a fortress of emotional repose.
We have to float before we swim and spit before we speak. Yes, dear, your fears are valid. But floating, I've learned, is not the first step towards failure.
__________________________________________
damage control
a poem even in
barest of metaphor
says too much
of loves, hates,
doves and dates;
an unspoken desire for
the elusive crown
that would announce
triumphantly
I own this woman.
so now will be told
obsession-
not stalking,
not creeping by
and detailing your existence
with a shrine of
dim lights
collecting the ordinarily mundane;
but light upon the senses,
deep and though without weight
as passion;
obsession healthy
as man was
born to know.
