Skip navigation

Tag Archives: poem

Pretend

“Pretend”

And for a while the rain fell,
And I pretended (do you still
Remember how to pretend?)
That I was aboard a tall ship,
Three heavy masts thrusting up
From the sea, damp men
Scrambling along damp rope
To secure her sails as the wind
And rain threatened to hurl them
Into an ever-hungry sea.
And for a while I pretended
(And I hope you’ve not forgotten
The rules for pretending) that I
Was a scribe, making careful records
Of all that the men saw and
Did, and of the strange new
Lands we reached, each dawn bringing
With it new adventure. And I
Pretended (but just in case, the
First rule is to forget about reality
For a while. Give reality the day
Off) that this rain was the first
In a series of increasingly fearsome
Storms that might claim the lives
Of many of the damp men
Who guided the ship from port
To port. And I pretended
(And the second rule is to dive
Headfirst into your own mind
And surface with whatever golden
Thought you may have have found
In the depths) that our ship
Had reached a sun-soaked shore.
And for a while the damp men
Escaped from the sea, and the
Rain stopped, and the sun shone,
And for a while the damp men
Were warm and dry and for a
While they were able to pretend
That their lives were something
More than they were. And for
A while I pretended (and the
Last rule is that no matter what
You pretend, that you have fun)
That I was there with them,
Dancing and singing in a
Tropical paradise, smiling
Because, for a brief while, I was
Free. And then the rain outside
My window stopped, and I
No longer desired to pretend.
The ship sailed away again,
And I was left behind.

Come Seek Me

A while back, I posted a story that was inspired by a piece of paper I’d encountered in a returned book at the library. Last week, I found a similarly inspiring note scribbled on a scrap of paper at my bookstore. This one has spawned a short poem rather than a short story, but nonetheless, I wanted to share it with you.

“Come Seek Me”

Come seek me where I shiver and hide.
Find me through shadow and sorrow.
Take my hand and lead me from the dark,
That together we might seek tomorrow.

Come seek me where I shiver and hide.
Bring close the lantern that I might see.
Call my name and let me hear your voice,
So that together we might always be.

(Note: The first line of the stanzas was what I found written on the paper)

Go Where There Is No Map

Go where there is no map.
Venture bravely into the
Lands that are yet unknown.
There be monsters, aye, but
There be heroes to slay them.

Go where there is no map.
Wander beyond the familiar
And find the strange and new.
You cannot be lost somewhere
If no one knows the way.

Go where there is no map.
Journey there on your own,
Or with a good friend.
You may be uncertain, aye,
But courage will find you.

Go where there is no map.
Stray from the paths you
Have known since your youth.
Adventure awaits everyone
If they start looking for it.

Go where there is no map.
Take whatever transportation
You find. Feet, bike, jet, train.
The only way to experience
This world is to see it.

Go where there is no map.
Flee the mundane and go
Where your heart takes you.
It is better than any cartographer’s
Work in your life’s quest.

Go where there is no map.
Leave footprints where none
Have ever been, nor will be again.
Blaze your trail and you
Will not be forgotten.

Go where there is no map.
The world you know is
Changing, and it will never cease.
Be willing to make mistakes
On each new road.

Go where there is no map.
No street sign, no satellite.
Be bold and do not falter.
This place is new, beginning
Here is the only thing to do.

Go where there is no map.
Take courage from all you
See and do. Become yourself.
With every dawn, you’ll see
New opportunities.

Go where there is no map.
Venture bravely into the
Lands that are yet unknown.
There be monsters, aye, but
Now you are the hero.

Tonight

“Tonight”

Tonight I floated away from
The world, and I gazed at
The sky, and I watched
The stars fall. Alone in the
Dark, cool in the fading of
Summer. “This must be what
It’s like to watch the end of
The world when you’ve lost
Your reason to care,” I told
Myself. “The skies are falling
But there’s no reason to
Fear it.” And so I watched
For a while longer, until
The waters grew cold and
My eyes grew tired and
The hour grew late.

Footsteps

“Footsteps”

These are my last steps through these halls.
This is the last night that I will spend not
Roaming, but monitoring, patrolling them.

New voices now echo forth from the doors,
And new faces, mysterious and unknown,
Peer around the corners. My time is ending.

It’s time for a new generation to take my place.
I can’t believe that my turn is over, but it’s
Time to pass the torch. Turn in my keys, clock out.

I’ve done my time, as it were. Served my sentence
And then some. I’ve been here for far too long,
Unchanging. It’s time to be like water, fluid.

These are my last days in the world that I forged.
This was a place that, once upon a time, provided
Me with the protection and stability that I sought.

I was desperate then, but I am stronger now.
Now I will seek love, freedom, and change rather
Than certainty. There are some things that are better.

Empty hallways will fill again, just as they do each
Year, an annual event that never ceases to amaze.
My part in the growth is done, my exit is stage left.

Life

“Life”

 

With a gentle whisper
It begins.
With a building roar
It continues.
With a deafening silence
It stops.

Rainy Days

“I know,” he whispered.
“I wanted to kiss you
In it. But there will be
Other rainy days.”

Blackout Poetry

Last month (actually just last week) we invited teens at our library to take part in creating blackout poetry. We provided pages from books that were due to be recycled and encouraged teens to leave only the words they wanted to be read. This led to some really brilliant pieces of art, and so I decided to craft my own as well. Enjoy!

One recycled book page + One Sharpie = Genius!

One recycled book page + One Sharpie = Genius!

Gravity

Today’s post is a poem I wrote a few years ago, originally for a poetry slam. I consider it the single best piece I wrote during my college career, and so I thought that National Poetry Month was the perfect time to share it with my current audience. This is “Gravity.”

Gravity is a bitch, but I let her have her way with me anyway.

She tries to keep me in bed every morning. I guess she likes

To keep me down, constantly. I’ve known since she first gave me her number

That it would be like this (it’s 6.67×1011, by the way—Somehow I’m

Feeling like she hasn’t been getting those texts I’ve been trying to

Send to her). I think it’s a doomed relationship, but she’ll never let me go.

I don’t even remember how long it’s been since I met her. I think I’ve

Known deep down that we’ll never be apart for long.

I suppose that her embrace is comforting.

Being too far from it can be disorienting. It’s a strange sensation.

Like I’m weightless—nothing without her touch.

It’s been a very strange relationship.

She said that she likes long walks on the beach,

But every time we’ve tried to go,

The tides come in. I don’t know what that’s all about.

She says it’s all relative.

I’m a nerd, and she knows it, but she still stays.

Some part of me hopes that she always will.

I think I’d probably fly off hurtling into space

If she ever left. It would be the breakup felt

By everyone around the world,

Even the people who don’t know me.

They’d all feel it. They’d all know.

What would they do if they found

Out? If they knew that I was the one who’d

Pushed her away? I think that they’d find

Me fairly repulsive. Yet somehow, I doubt

That they’d be in any position to do anything

About it at that point.

So I stay in this loveless relationship,

More out of the convenience of it than

Anything. It’s better for all of us that

Way, isn’t it? I mean, despite my feelings,

The attraction is oddly irresistible.

I’ll always be hers. It’s almost a crushing

Feeling of inevitability. Oh well. I’m stuck with her.

 

Gravity.

 

 

 

That bitch.

Eternity

“Eternity”

 

For the briefest of eternities,
I am lost in dream, open meadows
The likes of which I’ve never known
In the Waking lie before me, green
And lush and full of new lives.
But I blink into wakefulness
And the dream is gone, naught but
A fleeting memory captured
In a poem.