Wordsmith Wednesday: Poem XXII

I’ve been terrified

by things many

but nothing

has shaken me


how much

I love you.

On Spirit

I find it difficult

to write

poems of

spirit and faith —

a challenge

that surprises me,

for there are, truly,

few moments

more poetic

than casting my heart

onto the ground,

crying out to my Creator,

in desperate hope and distress,

for relief from the boulders

that burden me to the earth.

What do you carry in your heart but struggle to write about?

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. 

On Love Poetry

If you dismiss 
romantic writings 
as insipid or vacant 
or banal, 
I won’t say 
“what’s poetry 
without love?”
I’ll ask 
“what’s love 
without poetry?” 

Touchstone Tuesday: Poem VII

Like an 
enchanting poem, 
I will go over you 
again and again 
until I’ve memorized