A few months ago, I landed in a bar filled with hundreds of lamps and dozens of poets, there to stand on a small stage and share their work to the dim lit masses. I have been continually inspired to revisit my poetry since then. It seems my creative pockets have been overflowing with poems waiting to be written and old poems that have gathered dust, and are ready to be unearthed like vintage denim.
I wanted to devote a series of posts to some of the writing I do that is harder to share. Poetry is a genre with a million interpretations, and I am great at getting caught up in doing everything “right” and waiting for poems to be “perfect,” before letting them out. Each time I have gone back to the Lamp Shop to listen to Poetry open mic’s, I am amazed at the courage people have to stand up and read poems written that day, in their rawest, freshest forms. I think I can let go of doing critical edit number thirty seven on some of my poems and just let them be seen here. Thanks to the brave and their words. Thanks to you, for reading.
Poems found here for now: