Regal

Dear blog friends,
Sorry I neglect you. Here is a new one from yesterday.
Erin

Regal
All that is gold glimmers,
Shimmers on branches
then departs – arcs
Tumbles, tying
eyes in a jumble
Dances around a ballroom
of asphalt floor,
walls of brick, wood and sky:
Regal.

Who wants to read some poems?

Alright, friends, here's the deal:

I'm entering a poetry contest come October and thought I'd get some feedback as I'm trying to select which poems I will enter. I can enter up to three poems and only one can be over thirty lines.

From the website: "Several prizes varying from $1,000 up to as much as $25,000 will be awarded for the finest lyric poems celebrating the spirit of life."

So, if you seriously want to read over some poems and let me know what your favorites are, let me know and I will get the spectrum of possible entries to you. And maybe leave me your email if you are not sure that I have it.

Thanks!!!

The Breaking: Part IV

There is no in between anymore.
Now is all I have, with faces burned
In memory of there – of where
It is dark. Faces in the dark.
Sparked, they need fanning
To flame. But I sit, wait,
An ocean away.

I break:

Sure of one thing.

Light wins.

Unsure of everything.

III.
“There’s got to be more than this ... ”
it plagues: creates rifts
in thinking, being, dreaming

Breath shallows, hope fallows,
never thought that it would be like this –
that I’d live to miss

But we miss something
through effort contrived, we buy
into this place, scared to face …

Cowards. We are cowards.

We run from the thing
most fearsome to behold,
we hold, it turns out,
nothing at all

So suck it up and make your way
Dry bones can rise –
They may

Part II

II.
So, what is your work
and is it your job?
Are you doing what you’re
made to do? Can you?

Time whittles away:
The second hand
thrust at days like
a knife to wood.
Chip after chip
fall to the pile
- are burned.

Days go up in smoke.
Were we warmed?
was anyone?

Did we do anything but
capture and release –
oxygen, carbon dioxide -
did we burn in a way
to be remembered,
to leave a phoenix
buried amidst the ashes?

Thanks to my Dad's html codes...Untitled: Part I

I.
To be something,

somewhere,
to somebody -

this is the goal.

To be somebody -

desire engrained
in the DNA of
Soul

of Body
of Human - man
and woman -

engrained in the DNA

of a World
in a solar system
in a galaxy
in a universe most unknown

small as atoms, respectively,
or smaller.
But we want,

we need,
to be

Somebody.

New

Dang formatting. Seriously, blogger sucks for poetic formatting. I have new stuff; if you are to read, hit me up. And does anyone have suggestions of another site that would be more format friendly? Really, I'm just looking for some indent options that don't create a line break every time.