This poem was written in 1983, inspired by my senior ring, which had a blue spinal stone because my favorite color is blue. It was published in the Spring 1984 issue of Metanoia, the Montgomery High School creative writing magazine.
Blue Spinal,
Spiral me down,
down to the depths of
your ocean.
I see everything in you.
The future.
The past.
Even the present is hidden
in you. All your facets
make up a maze.
I’m lost in your haze
of blue.
This poem was written circa 1975. I’d forgotten all about it until my mother called me and told me she wanted to read to me a poem written by a 9-year old girl. When she was done, she asked me if I remembered it. I said it sounded familiar … maybe I’d read it on…
Written in 1983. I see an image made of dust. This is something I cannot trust. But what of broadswords that are thrust? Soon their valor turns to rust.
This poem was written February 8, 1991. A soul tormented filled with desire he cannot fulfill Filled with love he cannot express for in that moment when the teeth pierce the life flow and in a wave of passion pain and fear he destroys that which he love and desires the most To satiate the…
1983 was a year a great angst for me. I wanted so much to have a boyfriend … didn’t happen. I was having issues with friends … my ADD-induced social cluelessness didn’t help. So, a lot of my poetry from that year deals with love and frustration and teen angst. This poem is no different….
In 1983, I did an independent study focused on my creative writing. I sat behind the teacher as he taught one class, and did my own thing. That’s why I have so much stuff to post from that year. During that course, I seemed quite fixated on war. The Boy was one result. This is…
Written in 1983. Wastepaper basket filled to the brim with wads of fresh, new paper. Desk cluttered with paper, ink and pencils. A slumped figure snores over a sheet of paper. The words “Once upon a time . . .” are scribbled out on the top line. Looking closer at the wads in the basket,…