Yes,
you said,
We will.
Yes,
you said,
I will.
Yes,
you said,
We should.
Yes,
you said,
I could.
Yes,
you said,
We would.
Yes,
you said,
I do.
Yes,
you said,
We will.
Yes,
you said,
I will.
Yes,
you said,
We should.
Yes,
you said,
I could.
Yes,
you said,
We would.
Yes,
you said,
I do.
The Famous Poet
said we should
only
write poetry
to bring about
Change in the World.
I think
poetry should
capture moments
weave magic
record visions,
because poetry
should reflect
change in us.
Snail subsisting
in solitary
travel trailer
inhales oily hair.
Magenta imagination
strikes a stuttering sibilance.
This journey is
long,
lingering,
loneliness.
.
.
A poem crafted in a workshop with Gary Gottfriedson at Word on the Lake 2013. (Having a great time! Wish you were here!)
The brief: 10 lines with rich imagery; include senses, an amazing verb, and a colour; avoid clichés.
This is a wonderful poem by Sarah Kay, about romance between ‘two unlikely objects’ specifically a toothbrush and bicycle tire. So poignant and clever.
.
Sometimes
I look at you
changing the tires on my car,
pushing a mower around my mother’s yard,
pruning (really badly) the trees at home,
and I think my heart will explode.
Sometimes
I listen to you
laughing riotously at a scene on TV,
playing Goldberg Variations on the piano,
snoring (very loudly) in bed at night
and I think my heart will explode
Sometimes
I touch you
entwining arms around you,
stretching onto the tips of my toes
kissing (quite passionately) whatever my lips reach
and I think my heart will explode.
.
.
There you go. That’s Diana Gabaldon’s Rule of Three happening in a poem! 🙂 What would make my heart finally explode? If he would only wear his kilt while doing any of the above! lol
He reaches
to her slumbering form,
gathering her
within his arms.
Brushing her hair
with his breath,
he pulls her
against his heart,
too full of
her
to search
for words.