Daily Poetry -- This isn't pretty

I am compelled to share with the denizens of web, those of you surfing at 1 am because you just can't help yourself, every poem I am creating during these 30 days of November. If you are following these posts (and god help you if you are), you will know I am not officially participating in the 30 poems in 30 days challenge thrown down by Leslea Newman . But that is only because I have an irrational fear of commitment and NOT because I have Ergophobia or Mertophobia . (Although I will admit to not completely mastering my Arachnophobia.)

So, don't be afraid to read the less than stellar daily poems below.



these happy moments
oases in a desert
that doesn’t exist

ltv
11/4/09



for a moment
I belonged
I was known
and understood
appreciated
and made fun of
for the quirks
that make me special
and more importantly
I enjoyed it.

ltv
11/4/09



Connoisseur of Chaos

I’m a connoisseur of chaos
selecting just the perfect strife
one that is uncomplicated
for a troubled intricate life

the flavor of the turmoil
can be enhanced by other things
like a young arthritic hand
having difficulty with rings

it’s all in how you wear it
with a flourish and some pride
instead of trapped and rotting
like a prisoner inside

so choose your trouble wisely
whether money, love or fame
for underneath the swirling mess
each human soul’s the same

ltv
11/5/09



again we start
to face the insecurities
or new beginnings
of another day
what at first glance
appears to be the last
leg of a mundane journey
towards the forty-eight
hour reprieve is
really that same old
cliché of the first day
of the rest of your life
why we continue to let
our minds drag the
baggage of the past
into this exciting
opportunity of discovery
isn’t really a mystery at all
who doesn’t feel safer
travelling with a friend?

ltv
11/6/09



Gallery Show

we paint with hidden colors
for everyone to see
the image we imagine
the Selves we try to be
but palettes are unique
regardless of what we choose
one individual’s rainbow
can be nothing more than blues
a study in monotony
or the simply subtlety of change
once the composition leaves us
we no longer can arrange
aesthetically we try to guess
our paramour’s delight
but succeed in merely showing
our best work on opening night

ltv
11/8/09



[untitled]

who do we pretend to be
when we pretend to be ourselves
that glossy, brilliant image
of the best we think we are

is it merely a façade
a pretty shell – like Fabergé
or is it something more in depth
that we can access any time
only using it when needed
like a hunter in a blind

ltv
11/8/09