I promised you poetry, did I not? I offer you the first (and one of the more poorly executed) of my poems from this past semester’s class. I’m still uncertain if I’ve gotten rid of all the abstractions. It doesn’t quite feel right, powerful enough, to me yet. I will keep working on it, of course – but here it is as I turned it in at the end of my poetry class. It’s been through several rounds of edits and critiques, so it’s at least half-decent, if not quite there yet.
She the North Star, I the Moon.
She burns, ever unmoving,
ever looked-to for guidance, for the highest example
of what is most important—a climbing—to be more.
Ever exploding outward,
ever held together by sheer force
She is always above and looking down, she is always white light
She is small, maybe, yet bright enough to be seen
across the mass of mediocrity—
across the trying and the failing of lesser stars.
Never missing, never missed.
Galaxies spin around her, turning,
held in place by her magnetism,
her triumphs, falling
thick and fast, one after another,
Words to break
Her road is straight, her path is set, her light her own, never borrowed—
I merely chase the sun.
even Polaris disappears,
if one travels far
enough in one