nobody asked…

Raging at the sun
Waiting for it to yield to
Whispers in the dark.

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Never since I died
have I felt so much alive
as here now with you.

If you don’t like it, you’re in good company. A poet I am not. A haikuist (?) I am not. On a whim, I entered it in a haiku contest. It did not win. However, it did place 10th. There was a total of, uh, 10 entries, as I recall. Now, Jean, there’s a true poet.

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I recently found this attempt at poetry, written during my Junior year in high school. After a bit of cleanup and editing, it seemed a good idea to post it to show that many years ago, I had at least a slight amount of talent. OK, I know. It’s not very good, but it does capture the dark mood of the nuclear stare-down that was going on during the Cold War. Even to a small town teenager, those were scary days, never knowing when we might be blasted from the face of the planet, even before finishing our cherry coke. Come to think of it, there are hints of that in the air these days. It’s not the USSR and it’s not a global superpower, but once you’re vaporized, details don’t matter much…

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Wisp of a crescent

hanging in a clear night sky.

Moon smiling at us.

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[Photo copped from Andy Borrows at Older But No Wiser. Thanks Andy…]

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