I’m not exactly sure—how tall are you? [I’m about as tall as I’ll ever be—one day soon, I’ll probably start shrinking. I’ve heard that happens when you get older.]
Well... [Well, you say? How deep is it?]
It’s hard to tell, since I never used it for water. [Deep wells are best—why I still remember the drought of ‘34 and all the trips we made to the neighbor’s well after ours dried up.]
I’m sure those were quite the days, but how are you today? [Today? Today I do as I please...so long as I’m pleased to do as I’m suppos’d to.]
That sounds like a good strategy. [Thanks. You’re welcome to adopt it—I won’t even charge you for it.]
How generous of you. Thanks. You have a good day now, ok? [I hope to, because every day above ground is a good day.]
Inspired by and compiled from conversations with my Grandpa, who lived with my family during my formative years. He’s the first literalist I ever met and frequently said: “You talk so much, you talk so much, you worry me to death.”
The pastries I had last night Are not a metaphor for drugs I bought them at a fancy boutique And payed a fancy price A literal one, not a metaphorical one This love for the figurative The not real but real Has become cult-like And I’d much rather eat real food Than starve eating metaphorical pastries Give me shallow over deep If it can prevent me from drowning
The concept is that people can send me three words and I try to write a poem with them
The first odyssey is a difficult one To step out into the blue and hope not to fall But fall you will. Usually fast and quite hard The next time you walk out yonder It’s with more care, but the result is inevitable
Sometimes you leap off the cliff. Sometime you inch off of it Sometimes you don’t even see the edge
Eventually the landings become easier. Your knees cushion you. Your arms splayed for balance. Is it getting easier? No!
Sometimes you hit every outcrop on the way down And land in a broken heap on the shore But you know what You’ll do it again, we all do.
I had a concept going here but I got lost on the way. Needs to be edited unless it’s understandable as it is. My brain isn’t what it used to be ;P
i’m typing this as i’m waiting for you to get back from the bathroom. in the starbucks cozy acoustic music is playing and your mocha frappucino half empty is on the table in front of me. your lips have touched the lid and i don’t want to be that person but i wonder. i wonder how it feels does it know that it’s lucky. can it tell me its secrets how does it do that? get you to open up and let inside the warmth? i’m not jealous. just curious.
you should be back any second now. you might walk out back to our cliche little table and ask me what i’m doing what i’m typing so furiously what i’m so passionate about. i will want to say you. i love you right here right now right time right place i won’t though
maybe i’ll say “i forgot to finish this paper that’s due at 11:59 tonight” or maybe i’ll say “i just got an urgent email about my political science class tomorrow” or maybe i’ll say “an old elementary school friend just sent me a Facebook message and i need to reply”
or. or maybe i’ll say “nothing. nothing more important than our coffee.” maybe i’ll just close my laptop mid-sentence because it’s true.
I'm sick I've got the flu so I let the cat outta the bag I'm feeling bad, so forgive my lack of lyrical display it's caused me lots of dismay So please find it in your hearts to forgive me today I'll be poetic again when I'm better, trust me :)
Sorry I haven't written lately, I've been battling the flu