Hey all my fellow poetry people. I’m running a little group poem over on my Facebook author page. Basically, I’m trying to get a bunch of people to contribute a line or two to a poem. Go over and check it out at the link below. If you decide to participate, be sure to like my page so I can tag you when the poem is done. Also, make sure to read the full post before participating. As always, stay focused and write on!
Last week, I talked a little about poetry and my experience with it. This week, I’ll go into a little more detail about why I like writing poetry and share another original at the end.
When I get right down to it, one of the biggest reasons poetry is so appealing to me is because it’s a quick way for me to get thoughts and ideas out of my head and on paper. On a really good day, I can sit down and bang out a poem or two in no time. On a bad day, I can at least get part of a poem started or the rough skeleton of something to go back to later.
Lately, I’ve been using the note app. on my phone to work on poems during breaks at work or when I’m on the go. I’ve actually written my last 15 or so poems this way. I can then copy them to a notebook or my computer and edit them. It’s actually one of the apps I use the most.
Now, as promised, one of my poems. This one’s from 2009. As always, feel free to share, comment, like, and follow. Stay focused and Write On.
Death Rides A Highway Guardrail
They lied when they said,
“Death rides a pale horse.”
I know because I saw him
straddling a guardrail at 6 AM
one blustery February morning,
lashing the sub-zero metal,
whipping the snow into a frenzy.
Death smiled at me:
A crooked grin of ice shards
as I fishtailed my way toward his steed.
Death waves in my rear-view
while I try to correct my one-ton ride
out of the sideways slide
but he managed to lasso me back in
180 degrees, back to his waiting clutches
and all I can think,
All I can think
in that frame-by-frame skid,
Don’t go over the rail,
Don’t roll over the rail!
The crunch of metal, plastic, and fiberglass
against unyielding steel.
Noxious air-bag vapors strangle my lungs
as I roll down my window
to breathe freezing air.
Death stared me down
one blustery February morning
and Death blinked.