poetry: when words fail
Even the loftiest of prose can hit a brick wall in pursuit of lyrical expression. Thankfully, there is music. Poetry falls somewhere between the two — verse put to song without accompaniment, played on a backdrop of less. Robert Browning once said, “God is the perfect poet.” I like to think of a poem as a jolt to my senses, like a sailor’s sunrise or burning sunset to an otherwise noise-filled day.
Below is a growing archive of selected poems written over the years, when words failed me otherwise.
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Arranged by date.
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A Poem to My Seventeen-Year-Old Son
finding the motherlode 