This is my first ever post, in my first ever blog.
I have decided that my passion for writing poetry should be put to a more public use. Maybe someone else can enjoy my poems as much as I do.
I want to establish a couple rule though; one, I don't like very sad mopey poetry but I may, in fact, post it. So don't expect to see much here. Two, I want honest opinions, I know that is how blogs usually are, but if my stuff is so bad I need to just stop and never write again I want to be told.
With that said I will post one of my Favorite poems first, it is called The Spectacle of Nature.
The Spectacle of Nature
A Chair sits on my front porch,
It is my entrance to nature.
The chair has taken me to such things:
The slow drizzle of nature’s tears,
The violent widdershins spray of malicious droplets.
She is my master when I am in my chair
I hear the orchestra of her cacophonous clouds.
They collide and crash into each other, calling me.
When I arrive my chair is waiting, already wet from the rain.
It is a slow spatter form heaven,
If there is a god, it is in charge of this
Every drop holds the potential of infinity,
It can feed a life or destroy a dream.
Watch it propose growth to a seed ,
A sprout erupting skyward,
Sending bits of dirt tumbling towards their home.
It is the firmest foundation of the Fundamental.
It falls down onto sheets of tine
Making the sound of a beggar’s cup, ting and ping.
It dissolves and removes the molecules and regards the suffers of no science.
Red, Orange and Brown is the fate of all metal at its’ hands
A steaming black slab in a summer city,
Is surprised by the unscheduled air-born assault,
But it responds by turning each drop into steam.
The mysterious mist magically rises in the place of their fallen comrades.
They are spirits of the vaporized returning home.
I sit in my chair and feel the cascade upon me.
I smile and enjoy nature’s spectacle.
