Because I have no idea what I want to post this week, and because I have had, as usual, a very busy weekend, I have decided to post three poems from my first poetry collection, Digging Up the Past: Poetry from High School (1994-97). Also, I only have about five copies left to sell (plus whatever my dad still has hoarded away), so I figured this post might serve the added bonus of helping me to sell off those copies.
I’m putting these poems in the order they appear in the book, which is to say, chronologically. I’ve picked ones that I like and that show my growth as a poet, but I’m making no claim that these are the best poems in the collection. They are, however, some of the better ones.
If you feel so inclined to buy a book after reading these poems, instructions on how to do so are included at the bottom of this page. I’ll even sign the book for you. 🙂
Note: WordPress won’t let me indent these poems (grrrr) so their form in this blog may be slightly different from their forms in the book. The words and line breaks, however, are the same.
Dreaming a Prophecy
Last night, I had a dream
That I was on a path to nowhere
In a desert with no name.
At one point, I stopped and shielded my eyes
From the piercing rays of the sun
Reflecting off of the sand,
For so doing allowed me to see what was once
A magnificent city, now reduced
To a heap of rubble.
Walking towards it, I heard
A distant chorus singing
A beautiful song.
They sang, “This is the land
Of prophecy. Come here
So I entered the city
Through its large, crumbling gates,
And I saw a vision of
The world to come.
Famine fastened its bony grip on the world,
Wars ravaged the continents,
And plagues took their deadly toll on the populace.
These images swirled ‘round, intertwined,
And were gone.
I shouted out, “What does this mean?”
In reply, I heard the same ghostly chorus sing,
“This is the land of prophecy.
Come here and prophesy.”
Bloodshot eyes behold fear when awake
Pondering o’er the many aspects of man
Contemplating all his fearless mistakes
Thought cut short by a falling can—
Rolled out of a drunken bastard’s hand
Who knew ne’er love nor cleanliness
Though he wander from land to land
Yet know he the darkness of loneliness.
Two floors above, the wild couple prance
Who often pranced at night before
Interlocked arms and legs in a dance
He the customer, she the whore.
Far below, the children cease play
Quarantined they are for being so poor
Heard above, the pious men pray
For redemption, their words a dull roar.
Bloodshot eyes in the lobby see all
The comings, goings, and misfortunes of them
Silent footsteps cease in a silent hall
The landlord sleeps: unequaled R.E.M.
The Sound of Rain
Hear the splatter of the rain
The pitter-patter of the rain.
Pitter-patter on the pane.
Everything is fair game
For the splatter of the rain.
Pitter-patter on a train.
Passengers inside the train
Hear the bittersweet sound of rain.
Pitter-patter goes the rain.
Softly dancing is the rain.
It sounds lonely within a train
Softly splashing a windowpane.
To purchase Digging Up the Past: Poetry from High School (1994-97), please click on this link and follow the instructions on the page.