Monday, March 1, 2010


Here are some poems I've written from previous semesters. Think that the same type of philosophy and subject matter applies to my clay work.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was ______________.

A piece of tooth found in the mouth

An image of a field from when I was young

A dog on the side of a road napping

A hormone that drove me mad

A closed eye that lead to the universe

The trace of someone smoking

A footprint behind a building

A cold wind blowing on your back

A crowd rushing forward

The wish to hide beneath a table

A soft way of saying no

A silent way of saying no

A head turned the other way unscrewed

An excuse to proceed backwards

An undone bottle cap

A white kitchen counter

=====================================================================================

Overtures of Overheard Conversations

One person says—

“It’s hard to describe the feeling of living

when you’re really living life the way it should be.

Do you know what I mean?”

The other agrees—

“Yeah I get that feeling sometimes, but usually

I just get stuck like every other young person

or old person even…

and sometimes I wonder

what is to be lost, if you are not attached?”

The first man responds in a casual way—

“I felt it the other day.

What it feels like to be alive.

I was coasting down a hill, on my bicycle.

You know, this March weather is swell; the sun was out and it was about ten O’clock in the morning.

Then this old man, on a red bike,

passed me by on my left side.

His own white hair was being pulled back by the combined force

of the wind and his own momentum.

His belly was hanging over a spandex panted waistline,

and he was smiling in a way I have never seen

before


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The short Pantoum.

It did not ring a bell, no it did not mean a thing

Lost in thought, you looked at him blankly

You could not hear a thing, no it did not fit

Completely into the contents of your own world

Lost in thought, you looked at him blankly

Was he from Malaysia? He spoke in poetry

Completely out of the contents of your own world

How could he pull such a thing from your own heart?

Was he from Malaysia? He spoke in poetry

Lost so completely in worlds so far

How could he pull such a thing from your own heart?

Pull such a thing from the contents of the universe

Lost so completely in worlds so far

You were out there once, alone, unmoved by space

Pull such a thing from the contents of the universe

I dare you to try

You were out there once, alone, unmoved

Completely, no it doesn’t ring a bell, no it doesn’t

Pull a thing, from the contents of the universe

I dare you to try

Lost in thought, you looked at him blankly

You could not hear a thing, no it did not fit

Completely into the contents of your own world

No comments:

Post a Comment