2 Kinds of People

Since the moment

I found you,

I have only encountered

two kinds of people:

you

and those who aren’t you.

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Comfort

I don’t

know why

we ever

seek comfort;

it is always —

unwaveringly —

in the moments

of discomfort,

of yearning,

that we

create.

 

Touchstone Tuesday: Poem XIII

People tell me

they don’t get

poetry.

I want

to tell them

if they’ve ever

fallen asleep

with a

broken heart

or cried

as their child

wrapped their hand

around their fingers

for the first time,

they not only

understand poetry:

they’ve been

living it

for years.

Art for Art’s Sake?

“I only love

creating and sharing art

and engaging

with other artists,”

I tell myself,

as I check

my stats page again.

 

(Does anyone else struggle with the balance of ambition and doing art for art’s sake?)

Touchstone Tuesday: Poem IX

I edit my work,

but not early

as often

as my work

edits me.

Touchstone Tuesday: Poem VIII

A poem is not a poem
if it doesn’t rhyme.
And a song isn’t music
if it’s out of time.
Language isn’t proper
if the grammar falls,
and a piece isn’t literature
until a publisher calls.

But, the listener laughs,
for he knows
that art is actually
full of shadows —
without rhythm
and without form,
art isn’t order
but, instead, a wild storm.
To burden word
with prescriptive rules
and to press down expression
as if a footstool
is to empty art
of its power,
to pluck to death
a vibrant flower.

Strong Language

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What’s Art Good For?

“What will you do 
with your degree?” 
 “Create art.” 
“And what’s art good for?” 
Preventing your lunch break 
from remaining the most interesting 
thought to captivate you today. 

Wordsmith Wednesday: Poem XII

Poets have long

ached to veil desire

in flowery coverings

to transform emotion

into art.

But what’s more

boldly inspired

than a heart,

naked,

crying out

for you?