Poetry

I write poetry to practice rhythm, expression and brevity. Come for the cringe, stay for the lulz.

Sinclair 4/21/2011?

I rediscovered this one while organizing my personal files in 2016. I don't remember the exact context surrounding it, though I certainly empathize with Sinclair. I worked for years on a programming project in a vacuum. Staying motivated was hard.

Please hear the routine of a man named Sinclair,
As he follows his dream every day of the year.
He wakes every morning with angst in his gut
But he steadies his pulse and he swallows the fear.

He plods to the bathroom one step at a time,
Then with toothbrush and comb, warm water and soap,
Dispatches the vapors of drool and night sweats,
And emerges at least with some semblance of hope.

Sinclair puts great faith in the slogans he's heard.
So he "never gives up and he never gives in."

Love Poem 4/21/2011?

I rediscovered this one along with Sinclair. All I have is the file modification date. This was the last poem in the file so it's likely that I wrote it on 4/21/2011 and Sinclair sometime earlier.

My thoughts exist in time out of place,
In a bid to win at a fathomless race.
You feel cared for so long as I'm near,
For I solve your problems before they appear.
But when it comes to life in the now,
I depend on you to recall me somehow.

Friend 8/9/2009

Sometimes it's hard for a girl to be nice to a guy because he'll take it to mean that she's hitting on him. Similarly, it's hard for a guy to have a real conversation with a girl because she'll take it to mean that he's hitting on her.

If I wrote to you,
Of thoughts deep and true,
What would you think?
What would you do?

Would you doubt the intention,
Behind such attention,
Though your wit were not worth,
My creative invention?

The words that I tend,
I need not defend.
Be sated to know,
That I'm a true friend.

Water Under the Bridge 3/21/2009

I wrote this poem to be lyrics for some lovely music that my friend Emily Bradvica composed and recorded. I learned that I shouldn't write lyrics but it is a decent poem by itself.

(0:43) As a young girl,
(0:45) I would hide my face,
(0:48) From the gangly old man with the shivering pace.

(0:55) On the arch bridge,
(0:57) Between here and town,
(0:48) I could never escape from his weather worn frown.

(1:15) Going to church,
(1:18) Alone one day,
(1:20) I encountered his gaze and it forced me to stay.

(1:25) He said, "Little girl, when you're old, you will see,"
(1:30) "That life is water, on its way to the sea."
(1:36) "I captained a ship with twelve six-inch guns."
(1:41) "I sailed for the Queen. What good has it done?"
(1:46) "Look at the story in the paper today."
(1:50) "Our boys were called up and sent far away."

(2:04) I asked for his name and he smiled at me.
(2:09) "They called me Captain but my name is Jeffrey."
(2:13) I asked him, "Did you ever watch a man drown?"
(2:18) He sank his head and took his hat from his crown.
(2:22) "It once got so close that I launched torpedoes."
(2:26) "I damn myself. I made their wives widows."

(2:55) He said, "Pretty girl, you're too wide-eyed to see,"
(2:59) "My life has arrived at an estuary."

(3:08) Now that I'm old,
(3:10) I wish he could be
(3:12) The pilot guiding this ship out to the sea.

Spirit 1/3/2009

Mortality looks like this in my mind's eye. This poem is very nearly a sonnet, with the exception that the odd numbered lines have 9 syllables instead of 10. I lead with the stress on the first syllable of each line to make things sound impending and the odd number of syllables helps when reading it aloud.

Death annoys immortal beings not,
Though even they must pay the reapers due.
Love to life as concept is to thought;
Observe the crop once cut will rise anew.

Picture endless interlocking rings,
Denoting every possible desire.
Each man is the cross of countless things,
All vying for the universe entire.

Tension surely rips the mesh apart.
Competing wills can never reach accord.
Obvious a pilgrim can't depart,
Right foot upon the pier and left aboard.

Thus the wisest gardeners seek to sow
That which dies tonight and wakes tomorrow.