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

Monday, August 23, 2010

My Contradiction


You're the storm and the eye of it,
The calm and the turbulence,
You're the Spielberg flick and the psalm to me.
Never knew what broken meant until you up and fixed me,
Crumbling pieces of dust and decay that sort into feelings.
You're the confusion and the sense,
The philosopher and the nihilist,
Beautifully disharmonic and complete.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Dollhouse

Carefully tailored answers so you can hear what you want,
A smile flashed at just the right time,
You know I’m meant for you.
There’s no one on this planet who loves you more than me,
Every atom of my soul is buzzing all for you.
I won’t whine or bitch or cry cos that’s not what you want,
I’ll be your girl for all these moments,
Each one an eternity
Cos that’s the way I’m wired,
Yeah, that’s the way they wired me for you.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

There are Things

There are things I cannot say to you,
- because of who I am -
- because of who you are -
I've never had this before and the inexperience can be daunting,
So I hesitate, so I watch.
You've been built up and cracked too many times before,
So you're silent, so you sit.
Your walls are mortared with past and present,
Mine crumble beneath future's hopes.
And somewhere our walls intersect,
Building the foundation of a fortress perhaps,
Inside where we can maybe let go.
Where I can say things I cannot say.
I cannot say "I love you" 
because I'm scared to,
I cannot say "for always" 
because you've lost your faith in forever.
These are things I cannot say,
But maybe I do not have to.