I think, as a matter of exercise, I shall compose a poem a day.
This exercise will have the following rules:
I shall not think about the subject until I am ready to compose.
I shall post the minute I conclude the composition.
I may decide to take a day off if the poem sucks (or if it’s a weekend.)
And…no ands. Just will enjoy it for the moment, and like a bird, just let it go.
So, my name is Chance. This is my poem for 07-29-2005:
part of the problem is not seeing
part of the problem is indifference
you can find something in things thrown away
but don’t think you’re better when not led astray.
part of the problem is ignorance
part of the problem is flight
you can pick up your shoes and leave of this place
but where are you going tonight?
cause I can’t see something that I never knew
take me down, beat me up, and push me around
if you can’t figure out just what makes the brew
then drink it up, taste it; ‘til it becomes you.
and it becomes you and even more still
you become something of much stronger will.
part of the problem is not seeing;
part of the problem is… fear.
