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, June 15, 2010

Be Still

As the storm crashes over us,
And the winds above howl obscenities
Be still.
Be still.
As the world crases down on us
And the we fall beneath the waters deep
Be still.
Be still.
Be still for they cannot harm you,
Be still for they will not touch
They are thoughts only meant to scare
They are sounds only meant to hide
What you feel inside.
Be still.

While up above all is rendered to ash
And the stars are darkened
Be still.
Be still.
When the sun is gone down
And the moon too has faded into the sea
Be still.
Be still.
Be still for the dark won't harm you
Be still for it will only cradle
You in its arms and rock you quietly to sleep
And in the morning you will wake and there the light will shine.
But be still now,
Be still now and revel in the darkness this night brings,
Be still.

No comments:

Post a Comment