Poems On Poetry.

"Distraction"

It's taking me forever
to finish reading this poetry book
because I keep getting distracted
by phrases that creep in,
lines that would start
such clever, thoughtful poems
of my own.


"Domino Effect"

I suppose the goal of my life
-- or one of them anyway --
is to publish a book
of poetry.

I certainly have enough poems by now,
piled up like domino stacks,
quietly waiting to set up a chapbook
or a thin, glossy paperback

which readers could easily carry around
in their purses or backpacks,
pulling it out in a dull moment
in a coffee shop or at home while the baby naps,

or on the bus or waiting at the doctor's office,
to play with for fun, and inspiration perhaps.

I suppose it is the goal of my life
to express creative sentiments to others,
written words whispered into the mind,
sparking a flame that in turn lights another,

a domino effect of delightful enlightenment.

--Ellen H.

Icicles-- a poem.

Such pointless, delightful decorations,

these multi-colored glass icicles

hanging in the front window.

I study them – aglow

with the cold morning sun,
each a variation on a color theme,

purposefully hung at varying lengths –
perfect imperfection –

as real icicles are.

I admire them – as I sit

for the hundredth hour

on my living room couch, breastfeeding:

a rare, glowing positive to being up so early,

never again to sleep in.

I also hung them so passers-by

on our busy, in-town street

would see them too.

Perhaps, decorative winter baubles

make up for the lack of seeing a homey tree
through our front window, as if to say
'We still care about the holidays,'

but saving me the work

of molted pine needles on the carpet,

and wanting it gone on exactly December 26^th.

Besides, these could last us until February for sure –

icicles are in season all winter long,

even if they were originally intended as holiday ornaments...
Maybe they're not so pointless after all?

--Ellen H.