Through my writing
is how I reveal

much of who I am
but that said

I am still an enigma
and better yet

a contradiction
as you might think

I'm pensive
a man of thoughts

shall we say
but simple observation

will show that I have
nervous fingers wrapped

tightly around a pen
or furiously pecking

like a hen at a keyboard
or a touchscreen

Whit Howland © 2020

When I say add  
sugar

you'll just scoop and tip
the spoon

and watch it sprinkle
into the bowl

very few if no questions
are ever asked

the good news is that we'll all
basically want to go to the same places

in life

and we are willing to write the poems
sing the songs
and dance the dances that will get us there

Whit Howland © 2020

It's more than just waxen sticks
posted like sentries

on a thickly frosted cake
it's a celebration

of things that are growing
inside me

such as my love
of confessional poetry

for paintings of lonely
landscapes

and of how I've perfected my ability
to navigate

wastelands
physical emotional

or otherwise

Whit Howland © 2020

It's a cozy arrangement
we both share

they stand in their glazed
earthen jar

never thirsty and never
dying

and my end of the bargain

ignoring the pesky little fact
that they were never alive



Whit Howland © 2020

a piece
of notebook paper

composed of lines
of various sizes

and what started out
as elegant

cursive turned quickly
to claw marks

and scratches
desperation

or a cipher

someone knows
but can't say

Whit Howland © 2020

hours
I've spent

my adult life
in search

of that perfect
image

it's bordered
on obsession

I'm up against
a wall

being built before
my very eyes

beyond that a land
they call no return

Whit Howland © 2020