On Poetry
March 26, 2026
Since I was a little boy, I have written poetry. I am not sure if anyone will enjoy my poetry except for me, but I enjoy it tremendously.
When I feel something, it sometimes seems easier to express it through poetry than through any other medium. It feels almost effortless, and I don't enjoy returning to edit my poetry because editing shapes and shades what I was feeling in the moment.
There was a period in time, probably about 20+ years ago when I posted my poetry online. It is still out there somewhere, but I can't for the life of me remember where I posted it or what I posted. For all I know, poetry critics have reviewed my works many times over at this point.
Now, later in life, I am excited to share my poems once again. They may be meaningless to everyone, but they are meaningful to me. They act as an emotional bookmark for me, and revive a feeling that felt special to me in some way at some point in the past.
My most prolific period as a poet was during the covid-19 pandemic in 2020 and 2021. I have multiple journals full of reflections and poems that I call "Poems from the Pandemic."
I'll share two of them here. This first one is from late summer 2020. I'll let you interpret it yourself, but I read it today again for the first time in years, and it is a very emotional read for me.
Quarantine Dreams - 8/20/2020
They're like planets - orbiting in darkness
Great, distant beings
Each unique unto itself
Some larger than others & some easier to reach
All worth understanding
One such dream - A man standing tall at a microphone with the firm steadiness of a mountain
In his hand, history is written
A history of kindness
His words give the people that empower him motion
They reach to each other with gifts of grace, even to those that do not deserve
In Texas, another man stands at another microphone
His words, more meaningful
For even the sad ones bring the cruelest people joy
People dance, as he writes history with his song
A great voyager leaves her home
The only one her kind has ever known
Her destination was only once but just a dream
When she arrives, she seeks to understand
She gives, and she brings
The only sacrifice needed is her own
The second is just over 5 years old today, and is one of my favorites. A small perspective on the greatest city in the world.
Constellation - 3/20/21
Spirits visit me in stillness
Finding their way through the tall buildings
To this very moment
Hiding from chaos in presence
Concentrating energy in time
New York will sap you if you let it
Play it’s game and it will run you dry
Its true beauty is found in stillness
Like a constellation in the sky
These poems, and the others that I have are such a treasure to me. They expose the emotion of a memory, which is a precious thing.
Looking forward to sharing more, so that they can endure here on the internet and not become lost within the pages of a notebook.