I've been writing poetry for several decades now. I also tend to edit (and re-re-edit) them. Here are a few of my better organized thoughts.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

THREE SKETCHES

 
                        SPENT


Almost immersed in a well of weariness

she lies, stilled,

hardly able to breathe.

Her hands are emptied.

Silence floods her throat.

Her eyes look out

on a tired world.



                          SPEECH DISORDER


His metronome is set to furious

and when he speaks, his body

            vibrates.

His words seem choked with anger.

His listeners can only wonder at this passion.



                          EXPERIENCED


She dealt with the world as best she could,

faced it with courage and with honest eyes

that saw the unintended consequences

of what she did.

She accepted the pains of disappointed hope,

and opened to the surprises of unexpected joy.

From all this she learned

to love the world with unrequited love.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

The Sounds of Breaking

It wasn't the child's fault.  No, it was the mother

hurrying to the car with arms too full

who let the glass vase  fall on the concrete curb.


But it was the child who shrieked and kept on sobbing

even when she held him close and said it didn't matter.

How defenseless are the young against disaster

                        and oh! the sounds of breaking,

                        the crash                                                    the clatter

                                               

                        then

silence              that terrifies the heart.