Unknowing can be navigated. Ventured. Crossed. Consulted with.
I start writing poems. Not knowing what they will be.
The rubble of stars
In my boots.
~
How savage is the immediate.
You stand up to it. You hold your breath.
You even tuck in your shirt.
But this too weird
Varied
Almost infinite
If you had the guts to ask.
The rubble of stars
Retina holding.
~
This is the bumble
In the be all of our magnificent lives,
The sorrow and the silence of our
Hearts when they are lightest.
The worst and everything more.
The crumpled sunlight
Passing for debris.
The rubble of stars
Ankle deep, spring aspiring.
naïve haircuts 
As always, the phrasing captures me and forms a mood. I love the repeated line “the rubble of stars”. I love the crumpled sunlight. It all speaks to me.
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Thank you so much. I’m very glad you liked it.
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Your poems make me feel like a tightrope walker. I am aware of a drum rolling way down there and I am aware that I shouldn’t look down. It’s a grand sensation!
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Thanks Nick, that’s really awesome of you to say. I’m really glad you think so.
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‘the refrain, the rumple of stars in my boots’ is the one thAT stays with me —
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Thanks John. I like that line too, I’m glad it popped into my head.
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that’s how it happens 🙂
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Yes it is!
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How savage is the immediate… this is the bumble… the crumpled sunlight ☀️💕
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Thank you!
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Wonderful how this poem comes full circle. What novel and inspiring imagery.
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Thank you!
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Savage, indeed. This makes me anticipate. What? I do not know. Moving to the next screen?
Top notch.
Favorite line is, “You even tuck in your shirt.”
Instantly familiar and endearing. Things you do when formal yet unsure.
Glad you make and share.
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Thanks Casey. I always wonder how much of our habits gloss over and diminish how we see the world. At the other end, too much of the world would be terrifying. Thanks for reading.
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