1.11.2010

7 days - 7 poems - Day 1

This was a stupid idea. I'm tired and just want to go to bed. Blah.

Anyway.

I had this great idea the other day, or last night while lying in bed and contemplating my inability to wake up pre 10am (see, I miss work for some things). My great idea is to write a poem every day this week. I guess I'm starting right now.

I could push it back to tomorrow but that defeats the purpose of doing one every day. And although this will emerge after midnight on Sunday (ie it is now Monday) it still counts as Sunday's poem. And for those who like rules...I can't use something I started writing before today but any ideas or lines I have from today on are good for the week.

I hope and WANT any and all who read this to comment on it. This exercise is tripartite (it has three parts)
1 - get me writing
2 - get me publishing (to whatever degree) so I'm not so wishy washy about getting things perfect and precious before they appear
3 - improve my writing.

For the third part I need constructive criticism. So tell me what you think, in any venue you feel comfortable (comments email, phone, face etc.). And for those who feel they know nothing about poetry, me neither! Except I know I like some things and I think some other things are dumb. Focus on that and you can't go wrong.

This first poem is about what we see in this blurry, cell-phone taken, picture.
Looks like blood to me!

------
Dear Pigeon

Dear pigeon,
It's been cold the last few days
and left to your own devices
you flew indoors and underground
and down
and down
to tunnel town.
Good plan.
Poor execution.
Now you're just a smear.
or
You were a criminal,
from society less genteel than mine.
Convicted by a jury of his peers
he will fly west
into the east-
bound
to Kennedy and deserved damnation.
Good execution, or
at least a success.
Now you're just a smear.
but
Dear pigeons,
How do you decide
which crimes
deserve a train's reward?
Which blurs of grey
are wiped away?
We pigeons convene here today
tasked with a sacred duty.
Capital punishment is tough.
or
Do you just let the cold decide
who lives and who died?

1 comment:

  1. I enjoyed the poem, much heavier than I thought it would be in the beginning. The typesetting is visually pleasing and helped me understand how it should be read, I think.

    ReplyDelete