#poet-tree

[be-right-here]

Only air

Now looking at

The place where 

I thought you were at

You’re not there

My hands clasp only air

I’ve missed us 

but I’ve a feeling we never caught

More than a whisper

To begin

All was in between

the tales

repeated 

It might have come along

If we had shut up long enough to let it come along

But we laughed over laughs laughed before

and oh shouldn’t we go on

And do this more often?

But it never moved to new

moments to trade with olden

[frogshoe]

Theme in my halls around my library: we have TREEmendous readers.  Each tree in the main hall has book covers from specific genres: Nonfiction, Realistic Fiction, and Fantasy (Left to right).  The single tree on black is a “POET-tree” with school poems mixed in with the poetry book covers.  The single tree on blue is just leftovers from all genres and the window picture is just listing some genres- I got tired of trees but had to give my “office” some privacy. (It too MUCH longer to complete than I thought/hoped!)

[southeastlibrary]

National Poetry Month at Southeast Library!

We've got some fun poetry-based displays at our branch right now!

Come check out some of our poetry by this neat poet-tree! We've got lots to choose from! We also have a whiteboard near the front of the library with magnetic words to create your own poetry! Stop by and write your masterpiece for all to see! We've had a few poets stop by so far... Come by to check out some poetry and write some of your own!

Miss Alex

[a-raven-at-a-writing-desk-b-blog]

wish you were here.

i've drenched it all in perspective-- everything in the curling curvature of the earth: this is artful architecture and there are angels in the angles, demons in the design and this is my house, constructed in conscious  conscience in keeping with my morbid sense of  humor haunting every hellishly hilarious hallway-- my mind is my mansion and my mansion is my world a fanatic fiction i've fashioned to filter fantasy through reality--because i can't determine which is which and which witch is witching her way through my heart this time? doesn't matter, names are just numbers here in nebulous narcissism: my flowing gray kingdom, where i reign with rain and yet i can't help but wonder why i never see anyone else  here: for all the clever cloisters and ruminating rooms, i've been the sole soul. it makes it all flickerr--err--the walls remain unclear. without someone else's eyes to prove that this place, in some way, is real, is valid, i can't tell. because no one else has navigated the maze of my  manic mansion, i don't know if it means anything. a lonely throne, i suppose, is no throne at all.

[thebeautifuldecay]

They call the time free,

hours of leisure

led with no direction or restrain.

But the truth seems to be,

I’ve paid the highest price

for the moments my mind’s

left to roam unchained.

[darienlibrary]

We have beautiful fig trees in our main entrance area and for National Poetry Month they have been transformed into "poet-trees" which is just the most difficult thing to pronounce.

[donde-esta-mi-mente]

hello tree

When I'm sad I go hang out with the trees

I bet the trees are sad and lonely too I know I would be if I had   names and hearts carved into me names faded by weather the bark healing over the hearts

and when I'm especially down I start to wish that I could talk to a tree

But God in all his mocking wisdom made some of us without ears, some of us without mouths, not all of us are carved with hearts

When I'm sad I go hang out with the trees

I'm glad that they don't have mouths to tell me to shut up 

[thebeautifuldecay]

Stillness Is The Move

I sound louder when silent 

you only hear when not here

so I speak for the sake of speech 

as you draw nearer and nearer 

words wilt from the weariness 

of a distance so deafening 

with missteps so misguided 

easy to misconstrue all the messages 

such an uneasy restlessness 

to leave leaves a lot to loose 

so I stand to sit hear in silence 

as stillness is the move