| | I recently submitted four poems for publication in English Journal magazine. Earlier this year, I began writing poetry again, and I found it very soothing. This creative outlet has provided a chance for me to play with language--something I don't get to do enough of as an English teacher. Some of my students have even asked that I share some of my poetry with them during our April poetry unit. I wouldn't say that my current body of poetry has a unifying theme; I have written about road rage, dog grooming, an overhead projector, and Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I mainly stick to free verse poetry, but I have also experimented with some stricter forms, such as the sonnet. And now, without further ado, I present two of my poems for your reading pleasure. I would appreciate any of your thoughts, comments, or criticisms.
"Road Rage"
A white minivan creeps into my lane.
I slam on my brakes and fire my horn
into the cacophony of the interstate.
My car skids to a halt while the van gathers speed.
I glide into the right lane and accelerate until
I can stare at the van’s driver, a middle-aged woman
with a sensible haircut and a pink sweater.
She glances at me as if in apology.
I pass her and move back to the left.
In my rearview mirror, she keeps her eyes on
the horizon, her hands at ten and two.
I tap my brake pedal lightly, then sharply.
"Four Diary Entries"
My wife, she always serves my oatmeal hot.
I can’t wake up unless I burn my tongue.
When we were first married, we sometimes fought.
I’ve eaten it this way since I was young.
Our bedroom looked like Walt and June’s at first,
But I could not bear his mattress any longer—
All those lumps, my spine about to burst.
My own Serta has made my zzz’s
stronger.
My parents’ chairs greatly differ in taste.
My own rocker is simple in design.
When I picked it out, it was not with haste.
Rocking away makes me feel fine.
A cottage in the middle of
nowhere?
I’ll go on in. They
probably won’t care.
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| | Posted 4/2/2008 10:35 PM - 122 Views - 6 eProps - 3 comments
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