Break

I know I just started this blog, but since I'm going to Oregon for Christmas I may not always have a lot of internet access. My posts will probably be infrequent. Sorry folks!

A poem I wrote when I first started writing okay poems

I always think about this poem when I'm about to go home for Christmas. I've still got the high school memories with me, and my theatre memories are the ones that stay with me the most powerfully.




Christmas Plays

On stage,
a high school set
attempts to establish scenery.
Emerald velvet curtains contrast sharply
with ruby cement walls.

It looks like Christmas.

I sink into my orange seat
aisle three, seat twenty-four.
My program wrinkles from my grip
as I breathe deeply the saw-dusty air.

I taste home.

Actor’s buzz oozes from the wings.
Lights dimming,
I wonder why I let Heaven go.

poem idea

I need to write a poem about this picture titled "Women's Work" but I don' know what to say about it right now. Maybe an idea will come later.

A poem I just wrote

poetry--the new realm of advertising

scraping plastic tiles
metal desks slide
ringing in the ears of teachers
forced to stay in junior highs
explaining poetry to video game geeks and football stars
and make-up plastered girls

why bother
is anyone's poetry worth that?

but keeping the words alive
in dead-end schools
is the only life left for most beauty

This is one of my favorite poems

I like this poem a lot. I wrote it awhile ago, but I decided to post it anyway.




A Spinster’s Friday Night in a Corner Bar with a Glass of Gin in Her Hand

broken piano in the Moody Blue
wears dust like a four hundred dollar dress

skaters are the new punk--rockin'

Haiku

late night plane flight

lugage takes awhile

sliding down a tired chute

Christmas time is here

Mr. Roselander

play the guitar
strum, strum, strum
taping my feet
makin' me hum
little old man
in the dead-end bar
play that guitar

Hi

This is me. I'm starting a blog. Woo hoo!