Images, abstractions
gossamer and tenuous,
living amidst
neurons and spirit
seeking refuge
in reality.
Contending with
unsuitable materials.
Words, imperfect.
Forced together
forming faulty foundations.
On top of those,
a rickety frame
other supports
coerced into standing
betray the life,
the origin.
A perverse representation.
Mangled images,
misunderstandings.
I’ve been lying to you,
but I didn’t mean to.
★ ★ ★
Clearly, I’ve failed to write (and post) every day during Lent, but I’m still going to keep at it. I have a growing interest in writing poetry. Of course, I want to do this with excellence, but I’m just beginning, so there might be plenty of crap. You’re welcome. As far as good poetry goes, if I don’t know how to write it, then I definitely don’t know how to describe it. So, my confession is similar to that of Supreme Court justice Potter Stewart, who said, “I’ll know it when I see it.”
