I wrote a few poems a little while back which I forgot to put on here. I'm not sure how thrilled I am with any of them, which is probably why I wasn't in a huge hurry. They're OK I guess.
The first one was my random attempt at an imagism-inspired poem.
The Ashtray
Accusatory stares in the thick, viscous silence
Of that breezy, baguette-scented French café
A thousand words and promises flung carelessly
Amidst the salt-and-pepper detritus of the ashtray
A Whimper
A few words spoken like a whimper
Were all it took to end the world
Broken glances and empty glasses
A double-edged surprise
I can hear it passing away
Piteous in its solitude
Reckless in its destruction
What could be more irrational
Than projection of a dream
Onto a mystery?
No, indeed, it's not what I expected
A twirl, a leap, a glance, a whimper
Casual words, stranger's tongues
The end?
My world is small
But somehow
I expected more than a whimper.
Petals
Paperback petals could dust the crystals from your eyes
I've seen it happen.
The animated batting, artificial
Around and around the brushed steel
Around the obsidian, deep as shoe polish
Dark and hollow as the night.
Sifting, sifting, always sifting
Through the volumes of herbs
I see and understand
It wasn't easy with the thankless sifting
Grasses, roots, beasts
Silence.
Your crystals are an overwhelming condemnation
Trade them for your happiness
He will know what to do with them
I am not the answer
All I can offer are petals.
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