maybe I dreamed we met on Halloween
because it was expected that we wear masks
both of us donning wolfskin
bearing our teeth
in an attempt to hide
our wool peeking out from underneath
poetry
Poem #789
you can’t just pull on your bootstraps
and hope to float
when you’re drowning
Poem #788 – heatwave
kittens melted into the carpet
crayons in the hundred degree heat.
when the sun set,
they couldn’t pull their little paws free.
Poem #787
yet again.
I check my bank account,
and I’m not a millionaire.
Poem #786
I used to take pictures of the sky
that says something about me
now I take pictures of dirt
I suppose that says something too
Poem #785 – you can’t lie in the vacuum of space
when I arrived in space,
I liquified
I guess it was just atmospheric pressure
keeping me together
Poem #784
busy, busy.
I’m busy
trying not to think
trying not to let the wall of water
at the edge of my eyes
drown me
Review of “Pillow Thoughts” by Courtney Peppernell
Pillow Thoughts, a book of poetry about love in all its stages by Courtney Peppernell, made me feel empty — probably not in the way one might imagine though.
Let me clarify, that I did enjoy it. It was grandiose and unabashedly gooey. I didn’t think anyone could be so dramatic about love. For example, this wonderful poem:
Of all the maps in the world, the only one I will follow is the map to your heart.
It’s cheesy. But it made me want to write love poetry, and I wouldn’t say that romance poetry is my cup of tea. I asked my fiancée, and she affirmed that I am very much a pragmatist when it comes to love.
That’s why, faced with Peppernell’s outpouring of promises and assurances, I felt inadequate. Is my love not deep? Is it not full, because I wouldn’t make such promises? I hope to explore this in my own writing.
Another short poem that I adored was:
But the world is exhausted, and the only wealth we have left is love.
I want to feel this way. So I’m going to endeavor to write more love poetry. Here’s to being inspired!
As a sidenote, this book of poetry and prose felt more like a big group hug than literary poetry. I had to alter my expectations when reading the book. At times, I felt like I was getting to the essence of the author, but other times it seemed she was spouting saccharine prose to boost the reader’s self-esteem. I didn’t need to do a deep reading of the poems to really understand their meaning. That doesn’t make it bad, just a different kind of poetry than I was expecting. I like it when a poem makes me think, when the words sink into my brain and stain the wrinkles. This book does not do that.
Poem #783 – there is no point in catching butterflies if your only reason is they’re pretty
justifying my choices to you is
catching butterflies on a windy day.
and if I did catch one,
I’d release it immediately anyway
Poem #782 – logic is not kind
you are right
but you are not right
the best way
to grow this tree
is the right soil,
the right sun,
the right rain.
but it will still grow
with another soil,
another sun,
another rain.
your tree grows twenty feet tall
so does mine
your tree is an emerald of the forest
mine is titanite in the Sahara
your tree is home to squirrels and birds
mine is a small oasis in the desert
your tree is not better than mine
after all is said and done