Twelfth poem of the day. I followed the prompt, which was to write a poem using at least five of the following words: moon, lake, glory, jeep, breastbone, spare, canopy, panic. This means I am officially done with the half marathon. Depending on how I feel after I come back from tonight’s reading, I may try to add a couple more. If I don’t, good night! Continue reading
panic
If the ground doesn’t shake for too long (a poem)
It’s completely a coincidence that I wrote this last night. The first line popped into my head as I was watching the BBC’s Kate Bush documentary. The parenthetical line sums up part of my experience living in Tokyo—if more than a couple of months had passed since the last noticeable earthquake, I’d start to get a little nervous, figuring that the regular small earthquakes helped release energy that might otherwise build up to later produce a much stronger earthquake.
“We may be through with the past, but the past ain’t through with us…”
About three months ago, I wrote a story—a short story—about a childhood episode (“the Nikki incident”, I sometimes call it) that ended up having enormous influence on my life. Emerging from a period in which I got divorced, moved into a place of my own for the first time in a decade, and began re-thinking just about everything, it seemed to be the right time to confront—and dispose of—this difficult memory and what I had allowed it to do to me.
However, as the movie Magnolia puts it, “we may be through with the past, but the past ain’t through with us.” Continue reading
Ordinary Average Thoughts 