RSS Feed

The Sky is Falling!

So, I’m taking a poetry class. As such, I’ve decided to share one of my poems every week on my blog. [pauses to wait while 90% of the readers click away]

This is what I look like when I write poems. Except minus the goatee. And the beret. I really need to get a beret.

This is what I look like when I write poems. Except minus the goatee. And the beret. I really need to get a beret.

[coughs] It’s okay. I understand. Broadly speaking, I hate reading poems (on account of it requiring actual effort on my part, thus nullifying my hard-earned title of Lazy Butt), but strangely, I love writing them. I love writing in general, but when I’m feeling particularly emotional or irrational, my thoughts tend to come out in poems rather than stories or blog posts. (My emotions also occasionally come out through artwork, but that’s another blog post entirely.) That being said, the fact that I’m sharing one of my poems with you today means I am baring my soul to you. So be nice. (P.S. Flattery works wonders.)

I also wanted to celebrate one momentous occasion: I have four followers/watchers/ stalkers/whateveryoucallthosepeoplethatarechronicreadersofablog! (!!!!!!!!!!!!) I about died of happiness. This is only my third post. I HAVE MORE STALKERS THAN I HAVE POSTS. (Sorry. I’ll stop shouting. I was over-excited.) I love you all. You are my best friends. In the whole world. Thank you for inflating my ego to drastic proportions.

Anyway. Here is “Thirteen Days, Thirteen Skies.”

As big as the ocean–
No, bigger–
Vast, endless,
Swallowing up the world without a second thought.

Teensy tiny, only a speck, a spot,
Limited by what it can see.
Trees standing upward, reaching, framing the sky,
Like an infant portrait.

I sit and watch the water,
The sun reflected in the lake.
Sun rises, sun sets, the lake catches fire–
A thousand suns, a thousand skies,

The sky is heavy.
A million pounds, at least.
The buildings crack from the pressure.
And impossible
To breathe.

Soft, gray clouds, seeping into the city,
Breathing into homes and lives and
Creeping into even the children’s smiles.
Blending sky into earth
Until you forget they were ever separate to begin with.

On my breath, the snowflakes dance–
Laughing, calling. Cold nips nose
And the sky watches on, almost with a smile.

Scattered with stars,
Splattered with mystery,
The edges of your sight
Taunting you
With the millions, billions, you cannot see.

Pit. Pat. A trickle on my nose.
Rainy skies, playful skies.
Pit. Pat. Looking upward.
Rainy skies, falling skies.

Blue, blue as sky, blue as her eyes, his eyes,
Like a piece of paradise slipped away and made itself into Sky.

White, endless.
White, nothing.
A sky full of nothing, a sky full of ends.

The sky is inside,
Inside my soul, my heart.
It beats–
Louder than the world.

The bottom of the wishing well–
Plink goes the coin.
It falls, falling upward, till it touches sky, then–
Plink, joins the stars.

Clouds drifting, floating.
Never a care, never a fear.
Drifting, floating, sleeping, drowsing.
Soaking up sun and waiting
To rain — to fade.


This ridiculously emotional, artistic, poetic side of Myself I have named Clarissa. She doesn’t talk much, so most of her posts will either be devoid of witty commentary or shall be narrated by Hammlington.

About Hammlington

Hammlington, the Ham of the blog, is the public face of the creature that is Me. Though Ham claims the title of All Powerful Blog Administrator and Supreme Ruler of Awesomeness (c), Hammlington's main responsibility lies as Potato Wrangler. The Blog:

One response »

  1. Pingback: Quaking the Periwinkle Moon | Ham and Potatoes

Don't leave a reply. (Kidding. Just testing out this whole reverse psychology thing. Did it work?)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Highest Form of Whit

Bigger. Bolder. Bloggier.*

The Official How To Blog

The official site of how to-ing.

Post it Notes from my Idiot Boss

delivered directly to my computer monitor on an all too regular basis...


little pictures I like to draw

Dysfunctional Literacy

Just because you CAN read Moby Dick doesn't mean you should.

The Librarian Who Doesn't Say Shhh!

Opening books to open minds.

Write, or Else!

Navigating the perils of writing

Flash! Friday

Micro fiction contest


Read our Mission. Find out how you can help us adopt James.

Covered in Beer

by Thomas Cochran, Known Moron

Eli Glasman

Site of author Eli Glasman

%d bloggers like this: