Need

Love me as you love thyself,

As I love thyself,

Hating myself.

Poetry

If I have nothing

to say,

why do I insist

on not saying it?

Premature Inheritance

Dusty shade

Bulging glass

Tender light

Corkscrew brass

Not an heirloom –

No one’s passed.

Garrison

We filled the closet

with stolen balloons.

A secret army

that died over time

like we did.

The Magic Trick

Fingers slowly passing through

a lighter’s flame.

It doesn’t burn,

doesn’t hurt,

but you smell yourself cook.

Baseball Diamond

After school,

the preteen boys reverently passed around

the magazine ad with the half-naked girl

hawking jeans.

St. Francis

Snow on the roof

His fire warming orphans

As he feeds them

Sugar and jazz

Moondust

Static in the music

From old movies

Softly scratches like yarn

And calls for a cigar

Self-Talk

You are wanted, now stop your worrying.

Lucky Numbers 89, 26, 37, 40, 8, 18

The Birth of Cognition in 64 Seconds

As the breedless dog

struggled

with

flypaper

we knew his thoughts for the first time.

In Hiding

After removing my index finger from the empty eye socket of the cracked, decaying fish–

Artifact

The old railroad spike

Crumbles like rusty bark

But the tip is still sharp

The Bad Wait

Bandage turban

Two black t-shirts draped over the blankets

Machines beeping, breathing

Please wake up.

The Ring Poem

I got a ring from my parents for my twenty-first birthday.

It’s metal, shiny, and plain. I like its simplicity.

Engraved on the outside of the ring, in italics,

is the phrase “One Day at a Time.”

When I was first given the ring, the text was painted over in black,

but it began to chip away in places.

So, I scratched off all of the black paint in the letter-shaped grooves.

Imprinted on the inside of the band is “Happy 21^st Birthday.”

I am somewhat worried that it’ll start to fade

after years of putting on and taking off the ring.

I wear the ring on the middle finger of my right hand.

The inside edges are slightly rounded

to make it easier to take the ring off and put it on.

I want it to end up with my youngest grandson after I die.

My own grandfather died before I was born,

and when I was a teenager, my two older male cousins

and I were each given one of his special rings.

I keep that ring in my room and only wear it on special occasions

like Christmas, Veteran’s Day, or my grandfather’s birthday.

I definitely don’t wear it as often as I wear the ring

That I got from my parents for my twenty-first birthday.

Slumber

To close your eyes, but see

To fall asleep, but wake

To surrender the battle, but win

To eat a star and drink the black

To run on water and swim in light

To see your reflection in the cobblestone

I don’t see why everyone is so afraid of you

Who doesn’t like slipping into bed after a long day?

Your head sinking into the pillow

Your arms tangled in the sheets

A single foot sticking out under the blankets

What’s the difference, really, between a bed and a box,

Between a pair of pajamas and a nice suit?

Contingent

If you are not real,

Then let the oceans burn

And the heavens drown

Let the mountains melt

And the forests freeze

Let the deserts scream

And the rivers weep

If you are not real,

Then silence the skies,

Because they’d be lying to me

And muzzle morality

For our compass would be false

How can there be art without an Artist,

Or love without a Lover?

If you are not real,

Then don’t let me live,

For I’ll have no reason to be

But don’t let me die

For I’ll have no place to go

Life will be a joke without a punchline

And death, a lobotomized dream.

But if you are real,

Then put your purpose inside me

Make me a man that is good

Show me a love that is strong

Give me poetry and electricity

And tell me what I’m supposed to do

And I will try, and fail, and try, and try.

Hey

This semester I'm taking a Poetry class to finish off my writing minor. The professor said we had to make a blog to share the poems we write for this class, so this is that. I've never written poetry before other than in my twelfth grade English class and a single poem I wrote on June 24, 2009, the day I decided to break up with my girlfriend. Hopefully the poetry I write this semester will get better as time goes on. We'll see...

Oh, and poets that I think you should check out are Franz Wright, Robert Frost, William Carlos Williams, Pablo Neruda, John Donne, John Milton, William Wordsworth, Wallace Stevens (he's taking a while to grow on me, but I feel like you should still read his stuff), William Cowper, and Peter Handke.