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

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Speak To Me

Speak to me of stolen things,
Fallen things,
Forgotten things.
Tell me how you found my heart,
And how you hold it in your hand.
Show me how sweet life can be,
And how truth can make stars seem dull.
Talk to me of broken things,
Crumpled things,
Rusted things.
Tell me how I took your heart,
And set it back in place.
Show me how my life could be
Complete if I had not ever been with you.

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