Sunday, May 7, 2006

Broken

Broken

There was a shell,
just a broken bit of one really
rolling in the surf,
its once-jagged edges
smoothed by years of friction.

It tumbled toward me,
and away,
as the water rushed
in, up, out, and back.

I tried to catch it, but
in my unwillingness to get wet
I missed.
I won't apologize (anymore) for the rawness of my recent poetry, its lack of polish, or the way it may seem random, disconnected and pointless. It is enough for now that it means something to me.

3 comments:

  1. I sometime prefer raw poetry. None of it is pointless.

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  2. It's writing in the here and now, true expression... sometimes polish only glazes over the poet's true feelings and hides the beauty that is ingrained in the nature of the beast... or the beauty. Keep it up, you'll only become better for it.

    And never apologize for writing what you hold in your heart.

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  3. I often find the time I spend trying to "polish" a poem is time I could be spending writing another.

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