lost in the dark (20161215)

you circle back
in this rain
retrace your steps to search for
that piece of yourself
you dropped

on the sidewalk?
in the gutter?

that thing you dropped
it is smaller than a snowflake
fragile as bones
woven of glass strands

and now
you say
i must go with you
to help you find it

i will bring a light
and hope my failing eyes
offer some assistance

Post 20160101

It’s the first day of a new year and I’ve decided on something new.

I’ve been running this blog for over a year now, just over a year. November of 2014, I decided to try to write a poem every day. At least one poem every day. I wanted to do this for a couple of reasons. First, my novel writing wasn’t going anywhere. Everyone would tell me my writing was good, but no one wanted the novel I had produced. t was discouraging to say the least. And I had this old WordPress blog for years that had been sitting silent and getting dusty. Why not use it to put my poems out into the wild?

So I did.

And two, I really had an itch to write poems. Maybe it had been building up in me for years. Maybe all those embarrassing self-indulgent poems I wrote in high school weren’t out of my system. Whatever the cause was, I had poems that needed to come out.

The result? A little more than a year’s worth of poems, almost one every single day of the year. I think I may have missed less than a handful of times, and I posted other things too. Pictures. Songs that got stuck in my head. The occasional post baring my soul on one or another topic. But really, it all came down to the poems.

Now, with a new year upon, I’ve decided take the WordPress blog and squeeze it into my other social media accounts. Facebook. Twitter. Google Plus (is that still really around?). Even Tumblr. Why?

Because I am indulging myself. The poems here are not to everyone’s taste, but they are to mine. Some are not good at all. In fact, some are downright bad. Most are okay. Some are spectacular.

And that’s not just me having a big head, though everyone who’s ever encountered me knows, my head needs its own zip code.

So enjoy the poems if you can, hide them if you can’t. Because every day for a year. I’m going to crank them out. Good. Bad. Mediocre.

The internet is my notebook in 2016. Thanks for reading.