Blue And Red

They churn,
the waves and me,
I could not give him sympathy
so I gave it to the sea.
When he could not sleep
he circled the earth and
Found me in a room
where the stars draw circles in my eyes
In blues and in reds
And the sky can no longer hold them.
They fall graciously into the sea.
I could not give back what he took,
So I'll walk the heaving plank.

The Sill Of The World

I created this blog, Sitting On The Sill Of The World, so that I could share my writing with the cyber-world. When it comes to my writing, I am pretty much a shut-in. I just began sharing with my very best friend, and even then, hesitantly. Well, less hesitantly, because that implies some consent. She more or less stole my notebook and read a poem, and from then on, it was a slippery slope.

Regardless, this move prompted me to expand my viewing audience to the say, three people that will accidentaly stumble across this blog? This is a big step for me.

Needless to say, I am extremely nervous. However, there is nothing I hate more than a false compliment. Truly. I would MUCH rather hear criticism. So, with that in mind, I ask you to   h o n e s t l y   comment on the poems I submit, with your true, unedited opinion.

Keep in mind: I am not proud of everything I write. In fact, I honestly only write for me. When you read something, it was never intended for the eyes of someone else.

I will, on occasion, be inspired by something I hear or read or learn, and if that is the case, I will always note it.

Thanks for read, I hope you enjoy it. I should be shot for saying this, but these poems really do keep me sane sometimes, and I hope that, to some extent, they can do the same for you.