My passenger side rear view mirror fell off of my car, and I found a poem.

 

 

 

Poetry Unhexed

My ears ring hollow
Keeping me up at night with the need to write,
To compose,
To slate out words no one knows why
… at first.

But poems form and the screen fills with text
Poetry unhexed
Is given birth on the eve of morning.

 

I actually posted this one about six months ago with a link to an audio version.  But while I was reading it this time, in my basement, I decided I didn’t like the last line.  The previous audio version ended up being quite a different reading than this one.  In the previous reading, the last two lines run together, whereas, I’ve been recently reading it with a pause before the last line.  Crazy, I know.

Here’s another poem read from my basement.

Guilty.
Guilty for attempted penetration of frozen supplies.
Overnight you planned the demise
Of manager’s special fish, pizza and vegetables.
But your root barrel shrapnel failed.
Once again, the good guys prevailed
And rather than wiping up root beer stains
A ziplock forcefield contains
The reminder of your infiltration,
Potential contamination,
Slowly melting away
‘Till later today
When you and my lips meet
And I drink to your defeat.

Back to reading poems from my basement.  This one might not be appropriate for all audiences.

I’ll add the text of the poem later today in the comments.

I realize I should be posting a poem today and so here’s one with a well fitting title…

Procrastination

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Picking at an old scab
that curiosity can’t leave alone
finding fingernails find leverage
in courage flaking,
bloody polygons with white stroke.
I can’t help but poke
through to my insides
slowly.

My thumbnail grown ripe for such an occasion
rims the countour’s
protecting me.
The hard edged nail sets sail
rounding rough
deflecting me into a detachment
worthlessly protected
in poetry.

Now that I’ve killed any regular readership that I’ve built up with a lack luster frequency of distribution, it’s time to redirect this blog a little bit.  Yes, I’ll still be posting poetry, but I’ll also be posting ideas around poetry.  How poetry lives and interacts with the world.  Should poetry get locked inside books?  How should we engage with this art form? How important is the printing style of a book?  How does poetry interact with digital film?  Every Monday and Thursday I’ll be posting a poem on this blog, and the rest of the time, I’ll be exploring the depths of poetry and its form.