About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
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Green Peas at Stake #577228 added April 2, 2008 at 10:10pm Restrictions: None
Bugs (For April Poetry Month - 2)
Bugs
Sometimes the bugs are too loud,
fantasizing your swat
in their twisted minds and torsos,
as if an acknowledgment.
Maybe they need you to applause
and call out their name, shrieking in
high c’s in your maniacal style.
The lowdown is their torn up endings you
cannot help, as they wait for the campfire
to cook their wings or for their life to coil
around your fingers while your skin,
bitten blue inside your bedroll, smells
of their innards, because like a special treat,
either you or they have to exit the premises.
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© Copyright 2008 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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