a reality check

i have not written a poem

in 2 years and five months.

.exactly.

i've been a poet since i the day black squiggly lines sprang forth

from the shel silverstien's page

and showed me the nimble toes of the written word.

and yet,

the poetry

appears to have dear john-ed me, dear friends.

the lyric toppling of syntax

and form,

appears to have dropped it's bouquet;

turned it's back on a hasty nuptial embrace

with the girl who 

just can't seem to commit

to who she really is.

 it's been that long,

since i believed

in my own words enough

to give them a home

and i, the prodigal child,

the seeker of life's little
nests

have denied my conviction it's home.

what i'm really trying to say is,
it's you-know-what or get off the you-know-where time.

 

So this blog is going to change. This blog is going to have a mission now. Because there's a reason i can't believe in the traipsing ballet of my own poetry any longer, there's a reason i can't pay attention logn enough to not burn the sweet potato chips. There is a reason I cannot turn away from a wilting-orange sun, which may very well be blinding me.

I have been tiptoeing around the heart of the matter. I have been not singing my story, because i was afraid no one wanted to hear. I was afraid that the overrunning well of all that I have been too afraid to say, would not be wanted. But it is time that I hold myself accountable. It is time that I held you accountable.

If you do not love me, even when I have said what must be said, then I do not need your love.


But if you do, if you even have the tiniest spark of the faintest scratching friction of love for me, you must help me.

I need to know you're there.