when you don’t want to write about shame
blocking the history of us
write to your own past or to someone else’s past. Use the photograph as evidence. Create a new story, an explanation as to what happened before, during or just after.
we were once
Pick a childhood taunt and:
Johanna M. Geiger
Too much: the morsels of questioning –
this incessant hum encouraging betrayal.
How would you know of my ever-present musings?
This moment – stolen – twelve years of looking back plus
fifteen more spent wishing for the future.
Memories: these flecks of gold dust barely visible and wholly insignificant alone.
Reaching out: a suspended tragedy. How often I halt my hands from that final connection
plus – the likelihood of a response is as low as is
my actual desire to create reality.
More of my poetry can be found at Wattpad. The formatting shows up much better there.
There are things I’d like to write, but don’t want to be so obvious. My energy level for writing in riddles has waned over the past five or so years of unsteady writing schedules. Instead, I am curating my own work – looking for pockets of poems that can be combined to form a whole. To what purpose? This is what I keep trying to figure out. I’ve already said that I feel I am saving my poems for some unknown great thing – some great publication that may or may not exist.
Reading through and compiling all at once has enabled me to see themes that just keep cropping up. I’m not surprised at this point, though disappointed that I haven’t been able to crack the emotional code that keeps leading me back.
Obsession turns to… what exactly?