My Year of Writing Dangerously

On the spur of one of my (increasingly rare) moments of inspiration, I decided that in order to maintain my artistic integrity, and because I can't keep calling myself a writer for much longer without actually WRITING something, I am going to write a poem a day for the next year. The first poem will be posted on August 10, 2010 and the last poem will be posted on August 10, 2011. (Unless, of course, I decide to keep going.) Not all of the poems will be good, and DEFINITELY not all of them will be interesting, but I will gaze around my kitchen, my living room, and Coming Home Cafe until something inspires me, then write a poem about it, as well as my random thoughts on the mundane things that no one notices, but which it is my goal to immortalize over the course of this year.



Thursday, November 25, 2010

Day 75 - These Hands

The title is stolen from an INCREDIBLE poem written by the uncle of a friend of mine. I was going to write something similar (and probably still will at some point), but this isn't it, because it was a war poem, and this is anything but.

These Hands
These hands can hold a pen
These hands can lift a beatiful little girl
These hands can hug a friend
These hands can caress a soft lover's cheek

These feet can run away
These feet can stand as still as someone's rock
These feet can slip and introduce my ass to the ground

This face can smile wide
This face can drain my tears
This face shriek and scream
This face can kiss a head

This heart can beat and pump
This heart can block and stop
or this heart can open wide
and this heart can burst from love 
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