On my birthday in 2011, I wrote a poem. The next day I read about a woman who had written a poem a day for a year. The feeling in the pit of my stomach when I read that, the sense of conviction, was palpable; I decided right then to do the same. From November 14, 2011 to November 14, 2012, I wrote at least one poem every day. Following through on that commitment is, to date, one of my most satisfying accomplishments.
Granted, not all of those poems were brilliant. Many of them were just a few lines, belaboring the fact that I had to write yet another poem. But a few good ones came of it, along with many that had potential for improvement. And the discipline of writing one poem every day helped me flex my literary muscles in a way I never had before.
I prefer not to put my very best work on the internet, but I would like to share a few here from my “Poem a Day” project.
From November 17, 2011:
When the soft touch of darkness
falls, I come to you
to confess my inner demons
slough my skin and
offer my gaunt fears.
This is the end,
the only possible place
for their unveiling.
The only way out is
Like a hatchling I come to you,
tender in bone, void of flight.
You fold me into your infinite wings;
I unfold my sorrow.
Such infinite wings … !
…. and our perpetual dance:
the folding again.
From February 22, 2012:
I find it odd and quite sublime,
this fickle thing that we call time.
When looking at the clock, it reads.
I look away, and then it speeds.
I feel most every day a shock
when turned one second from the clock.
The minutes have accumulated.
I will be late, and self-berated
to find that no amount of will
can make the time stay standing still.
From November 5, 2012:
a cowboy’s constellation
thunders over a prairie
rounding up planets
and lassoing maverick meteors.
Sleep now, my bunkhouse boy.
Get your rest tonight.
Sleep to the rhythm of the
while earth canters on
like a faithful horse.