Sunday, October 14, 2012

Sometimes I Write Poetry

This one is titled "Nature."

Oh, Nature.
Nature, nature, nature
Trees, birds...River
Oh, how I go out walking
And look up at the mighty sky
And watch the moon rise over the scaled mountains
under the cut-out diamonds in the sky.
So I wonder. Nature.
Nature, nature, nature
Where your wonder ends.

This poem is about my old neighbor's dog back in Orem I grew up with. His name was Watson.

Sherlock Holmes' companion, but not
I remember those days, Watson
When you barked at the squirrel up the tree, endlessly
And ran away with a dollhead, in which another
Yapped at you on the way home
How you would eat your dogfood with milk
Like cereal.
I watch you go gray and fat
How you lost your existential altruism for life
And started biting small children as you went senile
My last days in the neighborhood were spent
Watching you offend other dogs and children
And losing your eccentric charm

This one is about love, or something.

I watched the moon rise over the mountain
And thought of you
Intangible, just figments
Something worth fighting for
Something to anticipate
Something to grow into
But you're just a something, not a someone.
And that's fine for now.

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