Why Poetry?

Why not? Sitting here pondering that question, I can’t think of a single reason not to be poetic. Of course both literally and metaphorically. Sure, literal poetry may not “be your thing” or maybe claim, “I just don’t get it.”

I began with picture stories, jokes, and greeting cards as soon as I learned to write. I enjoyed sharing them most of all. I understood a person’s creative gesture could create connection, but also learned at times feel more like alienation, this is especially true if that creative energy’s motive becomes co-dependent on other’s feelings and reactions as opposed to one’s own inner connection. But enough about my inner child’s first existential crisis.

Writing does something for me that nothing else does, it reminds me of who I am.

Does it occasionally bother me that I get loads of “likes” on facebook if I post a picture of my two cats and not a single click when I post a new poem, of course! But then I am given an opportunity to re-evaluate why I write and publish. I do it for me, but along the way if my strings of choreographed words inspire something for somebody else, well then, that’s why poetry.


I’m not sorry if you think what I’m saying ain’t true

Luck must be, passed these lips

Hand over fist

Upon shoulders, compact disks

Reality objectified

Shameless fits of leather & lace

Formatting time to suit

Tailor made bargains

What’s apparent, stokes equation hides

Well fed apologies

Digging holes to jump through

All it took was one rabbit to undue

Lasso or noose

Detaching greens & blues

I’m not sorry if you think what I’m saying ain’t true

Forming the sky

Hooking loops

Red handed let loose

Earmarked profits howl too

Space emergence now

Recommending, who are you?

Known to suffer

Perhaps stage a coup

I’m not sorry if you think what I’m saying ain’t true

Your world and mine

Remembering all depends on the view

Emptying alters and formulating clue