In my April Housekeeping post I said I would post two poems a week, one that I had written and one that was written by someone else. Earlier this week I posted “Having a Coke with You” by Frank O’Hara, so this is the post that features a poem that I have written. I don’t normally have titles for my poems, so they’ll all be titled with the date and time they were written. Enjoy!
March 10, 2017 10:12pm
I’m soft and have a capacity for love.
I have retreated into myself so well,
I struggle with the present. I’m boring.
I’m boring. Often, I find myself
in circles, endless loops of the same
empty thoughts pressing into my brain,
weighing my shoulders, until my back
is curved away from the sun
and I’m closer to the earth, the flowers.
There are small joys in everything.
I use them to orient an overstimulating
world. When I can’t sleep at night
I push myself into alternate universes
and write poetry. I don’t count.
We’ll never stop getting older; the sun
will never stop getting closer. Oh,
I don’t know. I guess I just want it
to all add up somehow.