Thursday, September 25, 2014

"Do You Still Write #Poetry?" Yes! Confessions of a Cross-Genre Writer #Writerproblems

Someone recently asked me if I still write poetry. I suppose this is because my fantasy novels are certainly getting more attention than my poetry--and goodness knows, I can write a manifesto on why poetry should be more appreciated, and why I am a mediocre poet at best. But instead, I thought I would simply share a recent poem with you.

I  had a dream that I was a comet, and being a writer, wrote a poem about that experience. My goal was to have it finished for my partner by our anniversary (October 14). I finished early obviously and here I am sharing it with you. For those of you who are curious, IRAS-Araki-Alcock is the name of a comet that came very close to Earth near the time of my birth.


This is the dream.

I am a comet,
stardust breath,
and spectral tail ablaze.
In the blackest corner of
a starless sky,
I pace alone
through a forgotten orbit
out of desperation
for the familiar,
in loyalty to a rhythm
I cannot comprehend,
a millennium at a time.

Then you are born,
and in that instant
my comet heart knows
and sets course for Earth.
By the power of dream
logic somehow
ice is exchanged for bone.
Stardust settles into green eyes.

Still it takes me 27 years
to place your body
next to mine. But this
homecoming feels familiar,
expected—as if I’ve only
just left and come back
having forgotten something

important, until I wake
crying, begging you that I don’t
want to return to the cold
dark of space alone. That
I can’t bear to spend another
millennium out there, knowing
you may or may not be born,
knowing orbits can change
and I will have to search for you

In our bed, you smile. You
kiss each cheek and tell me
it was a dream. But it isn’t, I say.

This is the dream.