Monday, June 9, 2014

On Writing & When Words Fail

Two poems up today. Let me know what you think of them. :-)

On Writing

We poets have our favorites
when it comes to writing:
types of notebooks, pens,
places, sounds, beverages.

I’m sitting on a black-striped bench
in the far bright corner
of the new cupcakery in town,
just two blocks away
from my favorite coffee shop.

Sometimes we must
break the mold, escape
our ordinary
to let new thoughts,
ideas, and words
flow from our pens
to our notebooks
to our readers’ eyes,
brains, and minds.

I take out my beat-up notebook,
open it on the green glassed table top,
arrange my espresso and cupcake
to be within reach,
I put pen to paper
and compose my thoughts.

When Words Fail

I’m usually pretty quiet
until I really have something to say.
Sometimes I stutter and stammer
and search for the words
that are right on the tip of my tongue.

I am self-confident
when I know what needs to be said.
I’ll barrel through a speech
leaving you with no way
to say anything back to me
until I am done.

Words can still fail me,
fail us; language gets
in our way from time-to-time.

All we can ever do
is talk situations out,
make sure that we don’t leave
the most important
words unsaid.


Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Yellow Guitar Picks

"My purse is so filled with guitar picks, green tea bags and bandaids that I can barely find anything else in it!" - Me, last night

One of the yellow picks on my bass

Yellow Guitar Picks

Last week I accidently
tried to pay for my coffee
with a mix of quarters, dimes,
and bright yellow guitar picks.

Yesterday I was digging
in my purse for my car keys
but all I seemed to be able to grab
were band-aids, green tea bags,
and yellow guitar picks.
I finally emptied my purse
of the band-aids and tea bags
but there were too many picks,
mixed in with coins, to even think
about rescuing all of them.

Today I grabbed my purse
by the bottom and before I realized
what I was doing, the contents cascaded
all over my passenger seat and beyond!
All I could do was facepalm myself and laugh
as yellow pick after yellow pick poured out,
many of them never to be seen again.
Yeah, I probably had that one coming!