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

Sunday, April 4, 2010


Thought of light that burns the sun,
Fires searing softly,
Lapping like waves: an oceans solid returning.
Cliff faces born of desperate hopes
Raised against the shed tears
In the hope to devour some forgotten song.
Inclining heads in one direction
Drones dredging upwards from the forest floor;
Sparks untouched and unnurtured.

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