Wednesday, September 29, 2010


The question of identity came up in a class that I'm taking, and it got me thinking. And when I think about something, it helps me to write about it. Hence, a poem.

Product of chance,
Creation of God,
Fashioned by place,
Defined from within?
Who can give you what's yours?
Who can say who you are?
Are you artist or clay?
Where does their influence stop
And your choices begin?

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Where Does Youth Go?

I rediscovered this poem today. I don't remember quite when I wrote it, or why I haven't already posted it on here, because when I found it again I realized that I really like it. Hopefully you will too.

Where does youth go when it leaves?
Age is a creeping and steady corruption,
Escaped by none
Despite all our grasping
At all that we are,
That we were,
That we see slip away.
Or one day awake
And truly, then, see
And regret.
For what’s to be done
When it’s gone?
And where does youth go when it leaves?

Thursday, September 9, 2010

A Lover's Gaze

Lame as it sounds, I seem to have inspired myself with that last post. Nonetheless, I really like this poem. Hopefully you will as well.

He looked at her,
He looked at her,
And saw in her
The world.
Her skin was smooth as sea-swept stones,
Her teeth as white as fallen snow,
Her eyes, her eyes,
As bright as the sun,
As piercing as its light,
And warm.
Her hands as gentle as May's soft winds,
Her hair as sparkling as the sea.
And though her beauty put her far
From his unworthy clay
As stars from earth,
He loved her.

She looked at him,
She looked at him,
And saw in him
The world.
His frame was strong as summer's storm,
His skin all browned by sunlight,
Brown as earth,
His eyes like fire and water at once:
Bright and burning,
Calm and deep.
His hands as rough as sand,
As tender as spring's first stems.
And though his power put him far
From her unworthy bones
As night from day,
She loved him.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Love's Occupation

Love should have no cares but gazing,
Gazing, gazing deep
Into the eyes and, therefore, soul
Of the Beloved,
And have no satisfaction
But to see therein
Its own reflection.

How Would I Love You?

I realize that my absence has been long, and I will no more attempt to excuse myself than I will attempt to fly. I will merely pick up more or less where I left off, and try to continue posting with the frequency I desire.

My Darling, Dear,
I won't try lines to win you over,
Unbegotten words from wits as dull and slow
As tar.
Instead, I'll tell you what I'd do
If you were mine
And let you figure out,
Think for yourself,
Whether the chance would be
To put yourself inside these arms.
Now what would I do, if you were mine?
I'd wrap you up in love so deep
The sea would look and keep on looking down.
I'd dance with you a dance so sweet
The room would stop and watch and weep.
I'd kiss you strong and clear and tender
As the morning light,
And the sun himself would blush and hide
Behind a cloud.