h2>Dating : Sharing 3 of My Poems that Often Get Overlooked
TOP 3
As writers we often let the reader decide our best work, this time; I picked.
Oftentimes as poets we have favorite poems of our own that get overlooked, or worse, fall flat with readers. Sometimes this is because the poems are too cerebral, too cathartic without offering much else to the reader, or they simply were ill-placed and weren’t seen. As poets, we also let our readers and fans decide which of our work is the most valuable.
Not today. I decided to share with you three of the poems that I feel are some of my best works, though the readers didn’t necessarily swoon over them. Perhaps, they’ve been simply overlooked. To make it easier for you to enjoy them, I am including a brief excerpt along with the original link so you can taste the poem a bit and decide if you’d like to read the rest. I’d love to know your favorite of the three!
In no particular order…
ONE:
This poem is heavily nature-based, as is much of the core of my work, yet it also has a playfulness about it that I also enjoy writing. I do write some children’s poetry and whimsical tales, but these seem to not do as well as my heavier, climate change activism poetry.
On Dappling Pond
White, crisp half-moon,
the blue crested melt
to ruddy hind swoop.
Tawny wings tucked under,
belted by royal blue.
Sleek chest, brazen
blue as ocean-deep.
Neck ringed in
maple majesty lace.
Enlightened, resplendent,
spectacular.
Click the link below to read the full poem:
TWO:
A poem that ached within my heart until I finally gave in and wrote it. Perhaps readers were put-off by the horrific subject matter, but I felt the poem was well-written. It received little attention but I am proud of it, nonetheless. I was quite upset when it was passed over for curation.
The Final Solution underway,
the underside of an Existential coin,
the dark underbelly of humanity,
drying up their veins
on a roadmap to Aryan perfection.
Tell me, sir, who handed you the scalpel?
Did the ghosts of their screams haunt you
— their shrieks crawling blind from the Pacific
to your Paraguayan refuge?
Click the link below to read the full poem:
THREE:
The sad poem that came to fruition: A Pier No More was written at a low point in my last relationship. I was almost grateful for the pain that gave me what turned out to be, in my opinion, a beautiful poem. In the end, it all came true. Rather prophetic, don’t you think?
A Pier No More
We were an old pier, standing in the sea,
pilings caked with barnacles, ravaged by the currents,
our foundation weak. We waited for the tides to displace us,
unplug us from our feeble grip on shifting sands…
for the sea to bring us to our knees.
The sandy currents burn with salt life
nibbling our shins and worming its way in,
the moon setting our time clock spinning,
one massive watery shift after another.
Click the link below to read the full poem:
