we now take a break from our regularly scheduled poetic program...part one

Hey fellows, I was reorganizing my writing files and decided I'd post one poem from every year that I have on my computer. Enjoy (and boy, sometimes looking at old stuff can be really embarrassing; hopefully we're all good enough writers now that we can smile at it instead of cry).

2002
First we have a poem I wrote for a poetry class. The assignment was to write in the style of a famous poet. This one is based on William Carlos William's style (one of my favorite poets!).

purple


It was in winter – probably –
she came walking by
in a purple coat.

Can you imagine?

Her arm stretched out too much -
she must have had a lot
of purpose in her mind.

But she marched past me,
no reason for us to speak.

Why should strangers converse
about purple anyway?
What would I have said?



2003

Next we have a bio I wrote for a zine that never happened. The zine was going to be done by myself and some friends in Charleston, SC, and it was called 'The New City Set.' Unfortunately, we kind of all lost interest in it (and to our inexperienced selves, it seemed very daunting).

Christopher Savage dreams of tall steel buildings with bright lights and waits for someone happy to shout out loud. His favorite thing is hope and his strengths and weaknesses are still optimism and impatience. When he gets old, he’ll be invisible to all the negatives of a dried up world.



2004
Here is a poem from one of my very first serialized sets of poems. The first set was called 'City Times,' the next set was 'Wonder Times,' and this one is called 'Personal Times.' Way back in these days I would try to empathize a style I wasn't using in other poems with each series. 'Personal Times,' features the use of quotation marks and speaking through the characters.

Personal Times 1


Vincent Obtuse is the father
of
time
and he says
,

“in the beginning
,
things weren’t all that different
.

I remember
…I remember

Molly would play with
Rebecca
,
in the noonday sun

,

and they’d act like they were
dandelions blowing around
,
twirling their arms freely
.

Yeah I remember that
,

like it was yesterday
.

But now it’s the end
,

funny, hunh?

I’m still here
and everything else is fading away
;
but it was all so
beautiful.”



2005

Next is a poem I don't really remember much of, I just chose it at random.

meltdown


the age of restlessness
has
bitten upon me and
I am here for
as
nothing can
ever be.
the last time I rode a bicycle
was
in eleventh grade; the sky
was
wonderful in that
silvery age.
but
far gone. away.
all girls
have come to eat up
my
good soul.
and
now,

meltdown.
in
sixty seconds, all is lost. I will
climb out of my bedroom window and
escape.
It
is all that is left
for
an adventurer
and
his lonely will.

I write tonight with eyes closed and
trust close behind, stalking me. it
is not you and I, perfection,
it isn’t
in anything we’ll ever know.
grow up
already.

we roll across plains of humanity
unknown and
forever
unbound.
all my life I’ve just been
trying to shine. to smile.
and
to escape.



part two coming soon...