In Your Old Age

Day 3- Find the nearest book (of any kind). Turn to page 8. Use the first ten full words on the page in a poem. You may use them in any order, anywhere in the poem.

Senescence is the great equaliser.
great men, average men,
men of faith, men of none
living life with the promise
that some of its secrets will be revealed
but all you will ever learn
are verbs like forgetting
and dying.

Upon Review

Day 2- Who was the last person you texted? Write a five-line poem to that person.

I cannot write about you.
Poetry reveals truths
And I cannot hear those truths
Without revealing hurts.
I still have not healed from your last wounds.

Light Pollution

“the light reveals all

sins,” she always said. but the

dark shows me the stars.

Updates

Last October I attempted a 30 poetry challenge. I didn't get very far, but I'll be posting a few of the poems I didn't hate here.

Back Home

(Lyrics from Back Home by Andre Tanker)

 

i went away / i leave an i come back home / i come back to stay / i must see meh way

It feels as though every time I leave, it takes longer to come back.

first six months, then nine, now ten–

as if they have been grooming me to leave forever.

I ask myself how people could leave for years and years and never look back?


not even once?

But the truth is, it gets easier.

What is one year more when you’ve been gone for five?

or ten?


or twenty?

i went away / i leave an i come back home / i come back to stay / i must see meh way

 Each time I fear that she will not take me back.

I think anyone who has ever left home for length of time can tell you about that fear

that you have changed too much to go back to the place

that you cannot call it home without a sour taste in your mouth.

You don’t live somewhere without it changing you and can’t come back without those changes

Whether is a yankee accent, or an expectation of something better.

i went away / looking for another home / tried to run away / run way from my destiny /

Yuh see, we is d people who does come back sayin ting like
“Well back in Canada…”

in another world / a world that was strange to me / tried to change myself / change my identity

But what we doesn’t tell yuh is how we don’t fit there either

Because whatever Canada or New York or England or other northern promised land we have created

Despite the efficiency of public transit or the cheapness of “food”

We know that we will never really be more than our hyphenations

Than our exotic accents

Than our otherness.

Calling there home gives you that sour taste too.

You can’t live somewhere without it shaping you, and you can’t leave without taking whatever idea of home you had with you.

i went away / i leave an i come back home / i come back to stay / i must see meh way

Alphabet Love Song

Alphabet Love Song

(For PC 37, 38, 39)

A B C D E F G H… H… H…

H has become too heavy a letter for me.

Home, heart, hurt…

Heavy because home is where the heart is

And being here has halved my heart hundreds of times

So each of you can take it home with you.

And with your heart in over 80 countries,

There can only be hurt.

A B C D E F G H I J K L

Hurt and longing.

Longing for those you may never see again

And for those whom seeing everyday is still not enough,

Longing goes hand in hand with leaving and being left

And we learn to get good at that here, don’t we?

But there is also love.

So much love that it makes all this heaviness,

all this longing and leaving,

worth it.

So much love that it makes sense that I’d need

90 heart horcruxes to deal with it

and I know that whether I’m in

Argentina or Australia,

Zimbabwe or Zambia,

That there will always be love

And there will always be home.

Sins of the Flesh

Flesh only begets more flesh

And this flesh of mine

-formed in sin and shapened in iniquity-

knows only lust

and I dance between longings.

Flesh begets more flesh.