I have started many a poem
Upon this empty screen
And deleted many an opening line
Never again to be seen,
Censored preemptively many a thought
And pitilessly pruned prose
And yet still end up with something like this,
Illustrating how much writing goes.
Filed under Poems
If you’re in a creative slump
With no ideas at all
Recall the Christmas ornament guy
Who said, “How ‘bout a ball?”
Filed under Poems
I remember a game
I played when I was childish
Where up I’d pick a fancy stick
And proceed to go quite wildish.
It would be, at the same time,
A lightsaber, a gun,
A steering wheel, banana peel,
A ticket: Admit One.
I could walk around the woods
With some tree’s lifeless limb
And make of a day of naught but play,
Walking and swinging him.
Now I’m big and childish
But have less inclination
To go outside and take a ride
On my imagination.
Today I pray to everything
That before I’m old and sick
I’ll meet just five folks more alive
Than my beloved stick.
Filed under Poems
Sometimes I wonder what bumps in the night,
If a leaf feels joy as the wind gives it flight,
How a man feels alone in the heart of a crowd,
If a teacher dreads saying the words “Sperm Whale” aloud.
Sometimes I wonder why I wonder why,
And if I’ll stop wondering after I die.
I smile as these musings run wild through my head,
Then I crank out a poem and go off to bed.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 