right now
i’m a pallid skull on a black t-shirt
i’m driftwood down the riverbank
a spiral galaxy tattooed on a shoulder
an empty plastic bottle bumped along the bridge railing
i’m dregs in the porcelain cup
the deckle edge of a book left on your shelf
i’m vibrating maxwell lines in a universe expanding beyond itself
a hard strum on a martin d28
i’m a swell of offshore energy destined to become a wave
20 thoughts on "right now"
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Dropping all the caps and punctuation really lets the poem act like the swell of energy rolling in from that wonderful last line. Solid images and word choice really create a mood.
thanks! i’m trying a thing out, and so far it’s fun
I salute your words here! You sold it at deckle. These “right now” poems are addicting.
i wanted to give myself a specific sandbox to play in this year. here’s to hoping they stay addictive lol
Seconding deckle. Never heard the word before, and any poem that teaches me a new word is an automatic thumbs up!
isn’t it a great word? thanks for the thumbs up
That lady line, “i’m a swell of offshore energy destined to become a wave” is the clincher that rolls the whole carpet out for this poem! Superb!
*last line, lol.
thanks so much! i had more images in mind, but that one felt like a closer. i’m glad you agree
Wow! I love old books and have done bookbinding and papermaking, so “deckle” chimed well with me. Great visual. The anaphora of taking possession, of identity, “I’m.” Yes! And there is such a broad scope to this poem culminating in that last line.
Well done!
thanks for these comments—i was aiming for specific images over a wide expanse, so i went for the whole universe lol
A dark vibe here that reminds me of Rimbaud…
i like an undercurrent of danger lol—thanks for the comment
These very precise and polaroid lines build to create a whole image very artfully.
thank you! i wandered around for a couple hours conjuring images. i even banged a plastic bottle annoyingly along a railing
I especially enjoy how you play with different interpretations of waves throughout the piece, it creates that sensation of an ocean wave growing until it crashes on the shore!
thanks for noticing! it was only half intentional
ahhh, liking this right now series.
love: i’m a swell of offshore energy destined to become a wave
This is why I glean the fields for other poets word harvests.
The little things dropped in the neatly furrowed fallow behind pens doing the work of machinery built to collect tiny grains that nourish our minds.
Thank you
“the deckle edge of a book left on your shelf” = deliciousness