A poem began to form as I fell asleep,
I was too exhausted to write it down,
Instead it ebbed and flowed on by.
Even as unconsciousness took me,
I tried to grasp onto the stanzas,
While they withdrew inside the vault.
Continue reading “No Poem November”
“Oh no, that stanza should be over there…”
Publishing poetry changes the words,
They no longer only belong to me,
Every reader has their own impression,
Clicking publish removes it from my control.
Continue reading “Poetry Doesn’t Have to be Perfect”
You can’t hear my words,
You can’t sing along to the tune,
You can’t listen for comfort in isolation.
You can’t watch my words,
You can’t view the imagery,
You can’t see descriptions as distraction.
Continue reading “What’s the Purpose of Poetry?”