but for a doorway, I'm unprotected.
A newspaper, someone's book or their notes
cover their precious hair. Careful thoughts run.
I slide my notepad in my pocket, blank
leaves inside, because what I have written
is less important than what I will.
March, 2009
<<>>
I saw it once, years ago
where earth dies in salted foam.
Worlds away, in corn-soaked fields,
but I can hear it still.
The pastures, they are greener there.
Those hills are elder bones.
I live apart, and yet I dream
my home back to those stones
July, 2009
I suppose I'll keep working on these. Neither rhyme nor meter is correct. But this form is the best they've yet been in, and I'm not good at poetry. At all.
They're not bad, the idea is there, and I can feel the imagery you are thinking of, but yeah the rhyme and meter need work. You might not want to rhyme at all. Free verse is kind of a cop out in my opinion but its a valid form of poetry. I do it all the time. :D
ReplyDeleteGood luck. I like the concept here, it would be cool to see if you can finish these out.