Thursday, March 3, 2011


                                                                          ANDREW WYETH


I think of lowering my expectations.
I had in mind a world with open arms.
Yet I've felt a chill to my ambition,
and suffer as my bones sculpt into ice.

I listen to the beat of retro music.
Mellow has a way
to slow my dreams.
And tapping my foot
seems quite polite
for those dancing
a jig around me.

Looking over the edge
I see rejection gaining,
no matter that it shuffles
with the apathy of a snail.

My resistance curls
into the air like vapor,
and the mirror reflects
a proper dignity.

Like a stake in the heart,
the first kill of my desire
is tolerated with a smile.

I learn to approve of
the threadbare me,
and throw away
my childish intention.

This poem evolved from a poetry prompt in Poets and Writers Magazine in which we were asked to randomly pick ten words out of the dictionary and write a poem around them.  I no longer remember the original words, but they really are there!

copyright/ all rights reserved/2011


JamieDedes said...

Bravo. Well done. I enjoyed this a lot. "felt a chill tomy ambition" and "first to kill my desire is tolerated with a smile" Wow! Glad to see you using P & W.

Happy Potluck!

Lyn said...

Hi Jamie-
I find that P&W has excellent prompts..a poem out of anything!! Thanks..


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