I lie awake (sweat in my eyes)
waiting for images to appear.
I sit in coffee shops (though I cannot stomach coffee's bitterness);
at breakfast tables each day,
thinking between the crossword clues.
I search for wisdom, inspiration:
Sandburg, Hughes, Bishop, Pound, Williams
and Whitman! (Oh, what leaves of grass I walk upon
looking under each step!)
Bending the pages of these poems,
I try to absorb their passions, words,
by showing what I have read.
I write about love,
I have been defacing American poetry.
Spitting in the eyes of greatness
and expecting inspiration!
I have crushed leaves of grass
instead of placing my ear on their tips
and listening to their songs.
It is time to read, write, read, write!
Sitting in my chair,
- ► 2006 (17)
- Let me ask you: have you ever been in love? I mean...
- a reminder
- cat scratches
- all things beautiful
- Under the apple tree
- I'm sorry that you can't see our love on TV. It's ...
- She comes to me at night when I feel alone and wan...
- Please, my love, let me hold your hands tonight. L...
- Focus on what lies ahead as you wander afoot. The ...
- You don't think I love you the way others do. You ...
- Ah, Whitman! The leaves of grass may be dead, yell...
- Oh sorrow! Oh depression!
- In the style of William Carlos Williams (or poems ...
- I am a flame burning brilliantly for you. My lips...
- The teabag bleeds into the hot water, slowly oozin...
- While balancing an orange on the round tupperware,...
- Within these walls
- the waiting room
- Modest Proposal
- #1 son
- A breeze blows in the night. With it, comes the in...
- Take me out of this moment, this place in time, an...
- on writing
- what the heck?
- mysterious country
- today, tonight
- two children
- on writing poetry
- ▼ March (35)