366 Poems: DECEMBER 31ST, 2016

New Me, Still Me 

(Seabirds)

I took a trip outside the reef

to where white seabirds soar,

and took upon an ocean

that I’d sailed some years before.

And the tides pulled a different way

than planned, but I won’t groan

from friends and falls and memories

that made this sea a home.

Now imagine a little girl

looking out with no name.

Imagine a young woman

looking inward just the same.

Imagine they are meeting,

turning onward and before.

Imagine seabirds flying–

calling, searching,

writing,

forevermore.

.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

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366 Poems: December 30th, 2016

The Pursuit of Perfection

In the Constitution,

nobody wrote it as “life, liberty,

and the pursuit of perfection.”

(And if they did, they were lying.)

Now today people walk around

with heavy overcoats filled with lies,

looking for the “perfect” this, selling the “perfect” that,

and sometimes it seems that life and liberty

and happiness

fade away.

But you don’t wear overcoats.

In fact you’re quite the light packer,

saying that you don’t mind the cold.

And you’re stubborn,

and you’re disorganized,

and you’re pretty shy when it comes to conversation

and don’t have much faith in your place in the American education system.

But like many people finding their way,

I wasn’t in this race

for the pursuit of perfection.

.

And yet it was in you that I found it.

366 Poems: December 29th, 2016

Good Riddance

This old year may end in, “good riddance.”

This old year may end in goodbyes.

This old year pushed us to our limits.

This old year left us few dry eyes.

But time keeps on turning its pinwheel

as history spins through the skies,

so this year may end in, “good riddance,”

but next year begins with, “nice try.”

“Kuta 2012 New Year Fireworks”
http://saiogaman.deviantart.com/

366 Poems: December 28th, 2016

Old Words

I wish for the words of another age

when my mind was less preoccupied,

when I couldn’t create in other ways,

and from the paper, my pen would never stray.

But times are changing, as they always do,

and I fear where my words may disappear to

but if they must, I ask one thing:

please let them still exist.

“Something new, something old.”
http://pascalcampion.deviantart.com/

366 Poems: December 26th, 2016

The Song

Don’t ask me why I’m singing,

’cause I’ll never know the answer.

Why my voice explores its highs and lows,

how it soars and quivers,

how it grows loud

grows quiet

takes every perfect harmony and wrong note into count.

I won’t know why I’m singing

except I’ve been doing it all my life.

And my life has certainly explored its highs,

lows,

strengths,

weaknesses,

perfection and imperfection.

Don’t ask me why I’m singing.

I have always been singing.

It’s just about time I let it be heard.