Poetry Portfolio

I've finished my poetry portfolio and in a few hours, I'll be finished with this semester hallelujah! I know I'm not quite publishing material, but I've found I'm just as passionate about writing poetry as I am about reading it. Maybe God has plans for that? I don't know, and in this moment, as I lounge on my favorite bench on campus, overlooking lake Virgina, I am completely content just to be in this very moment. Usually my ambition pulls my focus into the future, but right now, I'm overwhelmed by the richness of life God gives me, and whatever He has planned will be good, right, honorable, lovely, meaningful, and glorifying to His most worthy name!

Upon request, here's pieces from my final portfolio. (fyi. some of the typography is off due to blogger.)


The Rhyme Time

What pun it is to rhyme,
Spending time like
Tossed Dimes
flicker! flicker!

By association, straining
against and yet together creating,
elongating-
tension.

Cyrano Pinocchio

(The Oh! is cut short
by the
K
but can’t stop the lingering A)

Is that okay? To rhyme,
an incipient crime
of the peripatetic mind
Kuhwacked! into militant time.




A Poem of Pages
after Paige

because she wanted
to eat
The.
Damn.
Grits!
A vivacious vegetarian who would lay
down
her rights
for the not-cooked-in-a-kitchenette-but-a-palace
Ham
While singing EEEEEEE-eeeeeeee-
Eet
Eet
Eet
An ethereal melody
philosophy(?)

The key lime pie was inspiring [crying]
want
to eat your cooking
like milky blizzards and cake

-an-hour-before-

Through gritted teeth





“IVE EATEN


nothing.”




capital H


To Hell with you
H.
It's a capital place,
just past a ravine
like yours--
too wide to cross
unhelped

you know:
“hot as”
“mad as”
“raise some”
“of-a”
“what the”
“ya”
“no”

…that half-pace place
your hamartia.




Echo


I.

Woe
Those oh
who hear
Argot
of Empty Sphere
Here, we ashamed same
(Something is not same)

Something
is not
Same souls

The world cracked.
(hear?)


II.

Awake:
with a headached
Fear
of Terror Dreams
[and]
Standover Men
(with)
Wings


III.

Eternity
certainly
handles an Omniscient argot




Dust

I! irrevocably firm,
A leaded stone in that stale room


You walked by,
Disturbed
the air

Cause and effect-

My firmnity swelled:
Doomed.




The Starling

escaped
from my Pulsing Organ
on a reckless sigh

battered through roped reds and blues,
turning my inner set awry
[from circulatory to respiratory]

Not blood, but blue-fresh air it spied!
It shouldered through my hollow throat
and burst towards…

but I

swallowed
hard-
stilling starling
‘til
locked carefully back,


beating again.

My view :)