There is no way around it, I love Poetry. And with that confession comes the sighs, the giggles. whispers of my pretentious nature. But I can’t help it. I love it. I’ve loved it since I was a child. What are songs anyways, except poetry put to music? At least that’s how I feel. So I started this blog of my poetry. Not because I think I’m a great poet, but to hopefully, just maybe revive this dead language, this dead art. To begin a conversation about it’s lyricism, it’s intricacies, and of course it’s meaning.
I’ve gotten more than I ever asked for
I’ve gotten more than I ever asked for
And even less than I dreamed
The greater journey lies out there
Out among the birds
But I’m stuck here
In a life without wings
Trapped beneath the trembling soil
You’ve got your love
I’ve got my earth
I tremble too
For that’s where you grow
Under the water
Beneath the snow
Out around the daffodils
You seem to promise from afar
You seem to promise from afar
From atop a mountain
And if I knew the promise of living
I would be braver than you
Yet there is something about
Your forgetful motions
Your flushed cheeks unique
And the world is happening all around us
Still I seem to waste
Threshold after golden threshold
First embrace after timid disgrace
A victory, a game
Still you advance me
You keep me dry
Somehow you keep me on your time
In your space
Just something for the unbearable
Loneliness to replace
This light
This light
Seems to smooth the skin over
And move me
Into the mysterious heaven.
There is a somewhere
Beyond this majesty.
So I am told
Deep into forests green
Like emeralds-shining.
So soft like a rolling hill
But more gentle than the valley.
And yet I owe nothing.
Not to gentility or nature.
Not to poor fumbling greed.
In all these bittersweet lies
I forget
The passions I need
And the imperfect regret.
A Dead Language 