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Literature Text
I rip pages
out of poetry books,
the titles of
Shakespeare
and Plath
and Dickinson
littering the floor
like trash,
and I wonder
if we don't all
wind up stepping stones
in the end.
out of poetry books,
the titles of
Shakespeare
and Plath
and Dickinson
littering the floor
like trash,
and I wonder
if we don't all
wind up stepping stones
in the end.
Literature
Erosion of the Catskills
There are people who know why the world revolves
why monkeys and fossils evolve
why the Catskills continue to erode and devolve
why cartilage and bones corrode and dissolve
this could be why we dream.
When earthquakes and volcanoes break out and layer up
and cover our eyes with a cloth of dust
like a frosty morning makes a field look like a tiled floor.
When dreaming breaks our souls into pieces instead
of puzzling our consciousness together
like fighting fire is a job as well as revenge.
When lakes begin to look more like graveyards
and emotions begin to feel trapped inside skin
it's what wha
Literature
A Walk with Butterflies
September is violent.
It keeps its mild weather
beneath bled clouds and branches,
some splitting pears on sidewalk
sweet like dumpster water,
a brash disillusionment
turned gold
then red then brown:
sixteen pinpricks of ooze
sliding off rubber.
I am violent: compressing image
into seeds and imagining laws
of creation, squeaking
behind the name
of Jesus,
or maybe it was a fly
birthed from
rot,
but he is violent: and September
leaves to come again
with a color,
one I can't fathom.
Literature
Restless
I’ve been living in the same breathy dream
for too many days now; I’m bed-ridden and
stale and I reek of those moments that come
full throttle like a car crash on a winter night
this is evolution where weak hearts
are afraid of the shadows and where
everything changes,
an apologetic wind births no remorse;
he will move on—anchored ship
set sail, I am the sunken wreckage
that never learned how to swim.
he will move on, Darwin says
I never had a chance
I wish I were the textbook sadness,
symptom and solution and endurance
but I’ve spent too long sleeping on the
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Edited 12/3/12.
September 2012
September 2012
© 2012 - 2024 betwixtthepages
Comments46
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Overall
Vision Originality Technique ImpactI love this poem. If you can draw at all, I definitely reccommend trying your hand at illustrating this, because it could turn out to be quite powerful.
I like how you took so few lines to target a very definitive point. As a fellow poet I understand how one could feel so great and write so incredibly, only to be overlooked by others who take what we have and learn to do better.
It is most important that we all remember that not matter how old, forgotten, or uncoordinated the lyrics of a piece may be, no poetry is trash.