Welcome to Shards of Silver

Marianne Moore once defined 'poetry' as "Imaginary gardens with real toads in them". I found this such a striking definition of something that captures the values of poetry that I couldn't leave it alone.

I've been writing - attempting - poetry since I knew how to hold a pen(cil). Some poems I write I like, most I don't, but every now and then I feel compelled to write them down, like a flush of emotion that demands access to some sort of visible medium that can later be accessed and reconsidered. I thought, maybe, that sharing these poems could help me out a little. I welcome critiques, critical and constructive (though I do, of course reserve the right to ignore the sharper sides of people's tongues ;) ), and hope that in return for your help I can leave you with something better than sorry attempts at a craft which only a tiny few have ever really mastered.

Clear Skies~V

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

A Wedding Poem

i thought of broken glass
when you made my world real.
the sound of cracking shards
beneath my bare feet.
cooling molasses of time covered in dust
of a thousand frosted moments 
all forgotten when the glass cracked.
you took my hand in both of yours
drawing me through it all
past the broken window
through which i had been looking in.
you made my world real.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Winter Is Not Yet Gone

The drifter by the newstand looks up,
No chance of rain on this Sunday morning,
Perhaps a ray of sunshine will warm his sleep,
Before the cold of night sets in and reminds him
That winter is not yet gone.

She lays in the sunfilled window sil,
In silence to dream her sunlit dreams,
She's a cat and she has no cares,
Only the knowledge that it does not matter
That winter is not yet gone.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

In The Other Room

I thought for so long
                                that I'd dreamt you,
Created you out of shattering wishes,
                 crumbling hopes;
But I can see you now,
                          touch you even,
All it takes is a handful of steps
                                     into another room.
Not twenty feet away
                                  just in the other room.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Conversations with Characters II: June Granger

You're as frustrating as a wombat, dear June,
Feisty June,
June who always knows her way,
Won't let anyone else have a say.

You're funny when you rhyme things, lady writer,
Collected you,
You who sits writes what you believe true,
Don't let others tell you what to do.

You're hard to write, dear June,
Elegant June,
Stripper darling hating spring
Because of all the baggage it'll bring.

I'm glad I confound you, lady writer,
Prolific you,
Since I'm not what you normally see,
I'm not of your world nor would I be.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Conversations with Characters I: T.A

If only
You would right yourself
Strange darkness.
You reside in the face
I can picture,
I even know what your voice is made of:
Liquid, silken steel
Rising to a storm when you are angered
- and you are rarely truly angered - 
yet soft and still in the council hall,
Able to bring the entire chamber to silence.
I know you
And yet I can't,
Because you're not letting me realise you,
Darkest one,
With all your inner, concealed confusion,
About who you are and why you did as you have done.
Conflicted?
No, you're not,
You're too decided,
That's your flaw,
And when I throw your lot in with hers,
All fire and reckless charges,
You balk and stare back out at me from the screen,
as though to ask
"Did you want me to change her from who she is?"
I ought to reply that that's not the point,
but I know what you'd say:
"Let the Dar'nayl take care its own."

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Outside our Windows

Here then
A new light for you
A new type of fire.
It's lit up the world outside our windows,
Focused on
Strange roots and bark and tree.
Beautifying
Terrifying.
World alight
Outside our windows.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Heartslaying

i remember when you kissed me in that kitchen
the warmth and taste of you


desire emptying into me
a pouring cliche
stomach heated with burning fireflies
and the silent whistling ache throughout my body


heart slaying.


i remember kissing you in that car
the warmth and taste of you


conquering armies surrounding me
reminding me
troy fell in ten years
you felled me in ten days
and the silent whistling mortality of longing


heart slaying.