studies in friendship: the first five

i’m waiting to read a poem
eh…I think i’m not a poet.
give it a little try.
walk through the practice,
it refines.
ok. you hooked me:

Just waiting to be alive
Found myself
And yet,
I am not ready for anything to happen

all you needed was the prompt

who else inspired?

ee cummings
                    jaqueline woodson
                                                       the essence of mary oliver
                                                                                                         but mostly yeats and
i want to be
                              as pure and unassuming
                                                                                        as mary oliver.
mary is my girl:  she’s always my muse.

i love the sounds words make—
the way words move in poetry
the way it hits my ears like music.

do it.
it works itself out
just trust the poem
to say what it wants.
my gosh!
you are a natural!
stop it.
poetry makes me feel pretentious.
i need to get past that.
if I’m a pest, tell me to back off.

you’re not a pest.
                                                                                               you’re saving my life.

can i brag?
it’s like i discovered
a new limb on my body.
what’s your email? i want to send it to you.
you’ll have to tell me if i’ve messed it up.
i tinker too much.

love is
writing your own fairy tale.     so i did.
i wanted to say fuck in my poem often.      but i didn’t.
it’s baggage from my upbringing.    but
the fact you can’t use the little fucker      is someone else’s baggage.
i opted to leave.
i wasn’t as brave as you–my new hero.
bravo to those who are privileged enough
to get it perfectly the first go round.     indeed.
love is.

See “The Messenger Project” for some context on these odd entries.