The Natatorium

An emporium of oddities from around the world, complete with somewhat informative plaques that almost never match the item they are meant to be describing.

Thursday, July 22, 2004

Poetic Postings

So apparently some good can come of evil. Here are a few of the products of the evil poetry class.

                    Anticipation

                    Anticipation (of the drawn-out variety) is bright green
                    Streaked with the grating yellow of fear
                    Dancing in the corner of your eye
                    Just beyond where you can see
                    Disappearing when you turn
                    Tapping you on the shoulder and running away
                    Like a child’s spirit
                    A vision of the future
                    Giving you a preview
                    Of what’s to come
                    While still in the womb
                    Forming in darkness
                    Until you can see what it has become 
  

  
  
                    Spiritual Dissolution
 
                    As a slippery sun shifts with the waves,
                    I lie prostrate on a gruff rock
                    Excited splashes licking my feet
                    With kisses of love and acceptance
                    My arms spread wide, my back arches,
                             Lifting my core upwards in ecstasy
                             To my lover, my god, the eternal sun
                    My fingertips dangle over the edge
                             And play with the water,
                             Feeling its texture as though for the first time
                    The marvel of liquid
                    My skin shimmers with subtlety, not brashness
                             Like little fish scales
                    And I imagine for a moment
                    That I could become a creature of this liquid heaven
                             But prefer to bathe in the holy light
                             Of heaven’s eye

 
                    Interim
 
                    This summer I wait
                    Feeling a profound sense of loss
 
                    All of my insides are being scooped out
                    To make room for the new things
                    The permanent things
 
                    This summer I lost my baby teeth
                    But the big ones haven’t come in yet
                    My mouth is empty
                    The gaps make me cold
 
                    Even my body waits
                    Holding itself in
                    My fluids flowing in circles
                    Unwilling to expel
                    Afraid it will lose something
 
                    It’s that blood-jumping feeling
                    When you stand on a cliff
                    Ready to dive
                    Into unknown waters
                    But pause for a moment
                    Acknowledging the fear, savoring the calm
 
                    I teeter on the edge
                    Expecting everything and nothing
                    Afraid of both
                    Feeling my fingers tingle
                    Before plunging them
                    Deep into warm sand
                    I scramble to my feet

 
These are all free verse, I might show some of the structured ones later, but they all basically suck. Feedback is always appreciated. As long as you can do it in verse. =P

|

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home