Three Poems From The Archives

While going through my file cabinet of old writings I came across poems I wrote from the mid ’90s to the early 2000s, some of which I read publicly at slams and readings. A lot of my old poems are strident, overly emotional, and not particularly well written, but I had fun writing them and that’s the main thing. My poetry is very different from my fiction and drama in that I write it all at once with few corrections and no rewrites so it’s close as I can get to pure expression. I wrote this first poem on March 22, 2001.

It is the time 
To ask for less 
It is the time 
To tighten the belt 
It is the time 
To let the car sit 
It is the time 
For less open space *
It is the time 
To know your neighbor 
It is the time 
To get close to everyone 
It is the time 
To let it all hang out 
But not too much 
So you don't 
Dump on 
Someone else 
Borders are fluid 
But always there 
(And) Borders Santa Cruz 
Should never be there    

*I’m pro open space and land conservation, in the context of the poem I meant less open space between people and more closeness.

This one was written on May 9, 2001, must have been looking at a river when I thought of it. Water is always inspirational and such a handy metaphor.

Standing against the current                                                                                                                                 Water flowing                                                                                                                                                                 On either side
Parting in front of me
Meeting behind me
Flowing below me
A cool smoothness
(All) around me
Changing constantly
But never moving
Never moving
Like a rock
Making a small ripple
But an eternal one

This last one was written on March 22, 2001 like the first one, I wrote several that day.

Come what may
I'll not delay
To walk the way
To a better day
When from this wordplay
I'll get some pay
So here I stay
In the S.C.** fray
By a deep, cold bay
Under a sky that's gray
Wishing for a jay
To a goddess I pray
And thank her that I live in paradise
Hooray!

**Santa Cruz

That’s all from the vault for now. It’s interesting to see where my mind was back then, what’s changed, and what’s stayed the same. I may share more poems later if I find anymore that I feel stand the test of time and don’t embarrass me.

©2024 Robert Kirkendall