Wednesday, May 11, 2011

As Far As It Goes

I would like
to write
a million poems
before I croak,
but given alcohol,
nicotine, the state
of my liver and
general bad luck,
I don't see it happening.

Don't mean a thing.

Ten or a million,
we do not sing to count,
we sing to sing.
  ~ mce

Monday, May 9, 2011

Take A Breath; Start Over.

I have struggled
against anger
at those I loved
who wronged me.

I have made
some progress.

Still incomplete,
but I will not surrender.

One day I will
book passage
on the ship
of compassion.
  ~ mce

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Why Do This Stuff?

Reality resides in the mind,
all dark shards and sharp edges;
the imagination
smooths and softens them
into something
bright and better.

Poetry is the great shaper;
the focusing lens.

To be a poet is to see
not what is
but what ought to be
with holy, burning intensity.
   ~ mce