Questions, Scars, and Scraps

October 27, 2018 at 5:27 pm Leave a comment

Questions, Scars, and Scraps

today there were
seemingly endless
echoes (or perhaps shadows)
of your beauty and grace.

that means, yes,
i too am beneath the Wheel.
the “average” must be
understood from the
beginning to be artifice.

nor can names be used
to analyze their own effect
even from the start.

our reality has been
scarred into us. is it
important that i’ve
forgotten or never knew
my name?

Written some time this year. My fear of getting published actually happened like this; I sent some ‘new’ poetry off to a magazine and it got published. I was again overjoyed. I’d even been paid for it! Then I walked inside the house and found my poetry in the magazine and it was utterly execrable. I hadn’t waited until what I’ve always called the “honeymoon period” was over. Unfortunately that turned into this fear of–near–inability to submit poetry. Questions, scars and scraps–indeed.

Note that in this Brave New World this–blogging something–is deemed publication. Which means that collecting my poetry would be somewhat laborious. Perhaps fortunately, no one has ever requested a copy.

Entry filed under: new poetry, poetry, social psychology. Tags: , .

The Atlantis Submissions that were… The Hierophant

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