Posts Tagged With: poem

If Only

I often say

”if only”

and

“I wish”

Although

I lack

Regret

For the

What was

because

the “if only”

would make me

what I’m not

and the

“Oh well”

that I am

I like.

    -Kami Tilby
Categories: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Crawling Between the Seasons

Here’s another selection culled from my personal book of poetry. Look here to see a previous entry.

The editor in me wants to change it, correct bits, rewrite or hide it. The blogger in me thinks this is simply who I was when I wrote it and it shouldn’t be changed. I’ll let you decide.

So, here it is, a poem about a sunset. It was written a long, long time ago, another lifetime ago.  I can still remember the sunset, feel the cool air, feel the me I was.

Wish I’d taken a photo. Maybe this poem serves as a replacement for a photograph. A snapshot of my much younger self, daring, confident, certain of my view of the world and ready to share it.

Categories: Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , | 1 Comment

A View from Younger Eyes

I once fancied myself a poet of sorts. I let go of that idea for a long time. Then, I recently came across a book of collected poems by my younger self. Each poem was typed, then cut out and carefully pasted into a blank book.  The gold lettering, hand-pressed to the outside cover and spine, still looks pretty good. It’s the most professional look I could manage given the technology of the time.

Now I could key in an address, get out my credit card and order up a professionally printed, bound, self-authored, illustrated book. Maybe someday.

There’s an honest quality to the typewritten page. The corrected type speaks volumes. The indentations that punctuation make into the paper  give the poem a tangible finality.

The temptation to edit and polish the poem before sharing it was strong. But, I like the unjaded, unedited perspective of youth. To quell the editor in me I simply photographed the poem from the page in my book to share right here.

- Kami M Tilby

– Kami M Tilby

I’m not sure I have it in me anymore to write poetry. It’s a stark, open-bellied, sense of exposure  to write a poem. There isn’t any excess verbiage to hide behind, no explanatory prefacing. It’s like a literary photograph. The writer must say, “This is my perspective, this is what I saw, nothing more, nothing less. Take it or leave it.”

Categories: Outdoors, Poetry, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Thirty Three Words Sandwiched In

Crushed

The Passage of Time

The Passage of Time (Photo credit: ToniVC)

Finally

Mercifully

A brevity of

Breathing in

Cherished

Rare moments together

Sandwiched in

Between

Forty hours

Bread of demands

Spice of dreaming

Crunch of wants, musts

Spilled words

Crumbs of

Time

Wasted.

This post is in response to a Trifecta Writing Challenge.

Categories: Writing | Tags: , , , , , | 6 Comments

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