messy bits we carry around. In 10 days, my debut collection of poetry will be published & available for the world to see. But before that, some context. I have loved poetry since I was a child. My cousin, Lindsay, and I once produced a hand-illustrated, yarn-bound collection of poems based on the creek in…
Category: Poetry
Bright
The brightness of a grey winter sky is blinding.I can hardly manage a glance out of the window—not sure I want to anyway.The bleak greyness spreads its somber shadowson the brown grass and tangled yard clippingsI failed to discard at the end of summer. Yet for all the neutral colors of a seasonin its twilight,there’s…
Seasons: Rest
The fragment of weak light just barely revealsa moment of hope buried within me—tucked away ‘til spring pushes forth the earth.Bits of green disrupt the barren ground, forbeneath the surface, growth was happening.We just couldn’t see what we alreadyknew to be true: the best is yet to come. A season of slumber must cover the…
An earthly cry
A lament to the flowers that didn’t bloom: I planted some seeds that didn’t germinate.Nothing materialized at all.The soil seemed good enough,the conditions ideal.But, there were no light green tendrilsstretching toward the sun.Just disappointment. Fatigue. Worry. Scorn.A bitter earth. I planted more seeds,initially they were strong.But they also failed miserably.From delicate new budsto a shriveled…
The Artist Restored
A piece of paper, blank page of stark white,holds little value except potential.For adventure seeks; its purpose unknown,a journey awaits. Ink suddenly stains!No longer a void, now littered with joy.Gifts bestowed. Letters, words form sentences,pages yield chapters: action, story, light. Pulled from the mind of an artist restored,not she who creates—the master provides.Merely she copies…
Musing No. 2
When you lay under a treeAnd look up,What do you focus on?Is it the sky, the clouds, the branches, the leaves?Do you position yourselfIn such a wayTo see or to be hidden?Do the sun’s rays catch your faceOr do the shadows grace your cheek?Do you notice the air aboveOr the ground below?Are the bumps in…
Permanence
There’s nothing quite so diametrically opposed in a world of finites. And yet,there are few concepts which we both crave and fear for the marks it leaves on our bodies and souls.Permanence. Would love last to eternity and beyond as the stories promise us?Would fame follow us all the way to an end where even…
Change
If you sit still as daylight wakes and pause,expand your lungs with air sweet, full of peace—moments, time stands still you almost forgetwhat it was to you, the meaning of life.And yet in a breath suddenly it’s clear:a life lived well gives forth life abundantSuch shame to waste a minute. Time’s no thief. The sun…
Open call – closed to your submissions
“Open call for poetry,”the zines and mags announce emphatically.“We want you, we need you,trust us with your words.”They aren’t lying, they aren’t false,but the actual requirements tell a skewed story;dry prose in small print which dulls your dreamsand drags you back into the realitythat it is unlikely that you,the writer of poetry,will likely be a…
Coming Home
There’s an understandable mix—a collection of feelings: a burst of joy, a sigh of relief,a pang of regret, a whisper of trepidation. We go away, but then come to:A return journey or a fresh start—perhaps both. We may venture to a familiar place,but that doesn’t mean we’re traveling in reverse. The sands of time continue…
L.M.Beatty 