Wednesday, November 30, 2011

New Journal

There's something big in your beauty
Something lost in your blankness
And I can't compete with the cover
I want back the drab
Of unwishing pages
Blessed with my poetry
Pounding my fingertips


Seriously, my new poetry journal is really pretty. It's intimidating. This is the type of stuff it's producing. Yes, I'm going to go ahead and blame the journal instead of the writer.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Tins - Fragment

Clouds pile
And the touched tins sound like
Swallows
Passive in ignorance
And tools of industry
They pile like clouds
Like pancakes
Only silver


So, I have a limited universe and I realize how often certain thoughts or images come up over and over and over in what I write. Exhibit A: Swallows. Have you heard them? They sound like tin. Exhibit B (which doesn't make an appearance here): Fog. And how you never catch up to it.

I think about these things (obviously too much) because I think they are beautiful. I just can never quite write down the beauty of it. I guess that's why God made the world and not me.