National Poetry Month

I don't feel like I have much to say at the moment, but the six of you reading my blog deserve to see the page updated as much as possible. So in that vein, along with the premise that old stuff can become new again, and in honor of National Poetry Month, here are a couple of old poems of mine:

The Child Within

Enigmatic child leads me by the hand,
To take me to his Never Never Land.
Patiently the youth explains what it is he's made,
While in his own world he had played.

The stories he tells defy belief,
And I say that with much relief.
His imagination knows no limit --
I pray adulthood doesn't dim it.

Let the strictures of adolescence never come
To deprive him of his childhood fun.
The freedom to choose between what can't and can
Is a gift that too few understand.

Written in college, revised 5/25/94

-----

the mourning after -- 11/11/95

incessant pounding of a neighbor's hammering takes me unaware,
involuntarily starting my day on the
underside of the life curve
through its rhythmic throbbing inflaming the
bitterness remaining from the previous evening's
endeavors to find someone to share my
affections all the while shunning the reality
that the dysfunctional ambience of
smoke and mirrors makes me ever desperate
to gain more than these furtive jaunts into the
city's loneliness crying out for contentment
can hope to provide, recognizing in myself
the futile goal of finding a
companionship that wouldn't leave me feeling
empty as the morning's dog bowl, the a.m. a
tangled embarrassment of arms and legs
belonging to neither of their owners
but to a moment that ended shortly before dawn.