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

Friday, July 9, 2010

The Final Line

Great Muses in your golden realm,
Will not you hear my plea?
And sound a bell to end my torture
And tell me what you see?

Great Ladies you who number nine,
Can not you give me thought?
To tell me how to write and sing
And tell me tales to wrought?

Great Ones in the skies above,
Hear my cry and answer!
End this barren drought of mine,
Send to me your words and sounds
That I may write this final line!
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