First things first: I don’t expect to write a new post every week. Present variables considered, the best I can hope for is to present something new every other week. I will try to include something creative in every post, if I can manage, but I will also be including a handful of updates, and maybe (if I dare) a few random thoughts as well.
Second, while I am woefully behind schedule (with regards to my summer plans), I do hope to have all parts of my MFA applications finished by summer’s end, and possibly have a short story or two written as well. These, depending on how they turn out, may find their way here. If such is the case, I will add a new page on the blog (like I did for “Gamer”).
Lastly, I’d like to take a moment for shameless plugging: if you enjoy or are encouraged by anything in this blog, would you please share it with any friends who you think might also enjoy it? While my first reason for writing is an enjoyment of the craft, my second is that I am striving to create a life from it. Yes I realize that attempting to write professionally is much like flying to the moon with only a bathtub, and that much of the work here is imperfect. Still, I’d ask that you please consider sharing these short, somewhat awkward attempts at writing. If nothing else, it might spur someone else to write better on a topic that I touch on.
Now for more poetry!
P.S. I should state that, while some poetry I write is derived from a sort of overflow of emotions, other poems are very much written in the abstract and without any foundation in my personal experience. Simply put, do not necessarily believe that a writer is telling you exactly how they feel by what they write down. We are, above all else, very good liars (for that is what a story teller is).
In the company of Shelley — Imagined primarily from considering the differences from older forms (primarily from the romantics) and the current form of ‘Spoken Word.’ In no way am I antagonizing S.W.. If I was, I would be far more direct.
“An Archaic mess of Tasteless color.”
“Old fashioned thoughts weighed down by older form.”
A younger mind might submit to such squalor;
I confess, I don’t want to just conform.
A sordid mess, that self-centered haiku.
When did the loftiest form roll in the mud?
Such vivid shades of Brown! Better on you.
The shades of gold and green – those subtle buds –
The romantic greats like marble gods!
Their eyes fixed out, their hearts awash in light.
A world alive and heightened by a verse.
Allowed to sing, to dance, to fly, then die.
As mutinous children all run away,
In the company of Shelley I will stay.
Doormat — This piece is a tad more recent that some of the other works I’ve posted. The effort was create a sort of energetic flow in the lines. You can decide on the success or failure of the attempt for yourself.
A walked on little terrier,
That’s how I feel sometimes.
Always around, and seems so sound,
He’ll help once more, its fine.
Perhaps a doormat’s more fitting
Description of my state.
No real thought is ever given
Until I start to break.
Yet muted stare, my one response,
No loud protest offered.
Instead I frown, or just look down,
No battle to offer.
So come right in with filthy feet
Or ball to make me fetch,
It’s plain to me you’ll never see
No plans of mine to catch.