Poems are Strange Fish

which is really a bit of a cliche, but still! I’ve been working on the same poem for weeks, and it’s only now beginning to reveal itself. This is sometimes frustrating, but it’s also beginning to change my thinking about poetry. I think now that there are poems everywhere, in even the most mundane things. Hopefully it will be finished before much longer, I have seven or eight that I think are finished. A few more and I might try to expand my collection of rejection slips!

The Bus is Due Now

I wrote most of this a few hours ago. No prizes for guessing what I was doing.

The bus is due now, now in two minutes,
Now three, and now, the bus is due now, for
Four minutes the bus continues due now.

Tree busses pass, all out of service, still,
The bus is due now, and now in three. Now
In five and now the bus pulls in at the

Wrong stop. Passengers disembark, and now,
The driver watches a company of
Outstretched arms as he drives away. And now

The bus is due now, now in two minutes,
Now three, and now, the bus is due now, for
Four minutes the bus continues due now.

Blankety Blank.

After almost two weeks of work, I finally finished the first draft of a new poem. I won’t be publishing it here. I’m saving them up to send to magazines. I’ve been learning blank verse, which I discovered is what I’d been trying to write all along. Who knew! It’s fun and challenging, and a couple of months ago I would have considered it finished, but there are rules to follow – not slavishly, but still. The funny thing is, having a definite structure is actually quite liberating and stimulating. I doubt I’ll ever be an instapoet, but that’s not a bad thing. I’ve discovered this is a life pursuit for me, so even if I never publish again, someone sometime might find it useful or amusing. Meanwhile, I get to write it.