Archive for the 'writing life' Category

29
Sep
09

Calling

Everyone has one –
the churched, the unchurched,
the atheists too –
because it’s a spiritual decision to be an atheist.

We’re not talking about vocation,
or career, or making a living.
It’s about your life’s work –
your life as purpose
your life as revolution.

[copyright 2009] Darren King

Advertisements
15
Jun
09

Sunday

Sunday

Today is a day of turning pages,
turning corners.
We watch our boys carry
a bucket of baseballs, mitts,
a couple of bats and a cooler
with waters up the path from our house
through the woods and up to the meadow
where some kindly neighbor mows
a baseball diamond.
They’ll throw down the
polyeurethane squares I found
after I cleaned out a stockroom
at work, use them for bases
and measure out the distance
sixty-feet apart like so,
arrange teams using a
variety of criteria like
player size, age and skillset
to be fair and start the summer right.
You and I
we read.
You a novel.
Me, a book of poems.
I sip a beer and smell the pines,
new mown grass, something sweet,
flowers perhaps.
I hear the sounds of healthy children
playing in yards adjacent to our’s.
I hear the squeaks and tweets from
birds and hear the hijinks from the chipmunks
in the woods and others who stay on
our patio, playing in our landscaping.
And turning a page to another poem
in a book by another Michigan writer
I turn a page in another chapter
of my life, see it is blank,
clean and ready to be written.

[copyright 2009 Darren King]

29
Oct
08

Orion Outside My Door

Orion Outside My Door
By Darren King [copyright 2008]

Walking out my front door
the other morning
I felt the sting of cold air –
it’s come early this year,
and noticing it was also dark
looked up out of habit
as I do each October
for Orion’s return –
his intimidating stance,
his drawn sword,
ready to strike,
but does not strike,
his infamous
belt of three stars.
Here I am
just north of forty
having always lived
in houses facing south.
His presence is as comforting
as it is unnerving
as only something so
powerful can be.
And I haven’t decided
after all these years
if he’s friend or foe.
On some mornings
he appears to be
looming over my house.
On others, he hovers,
protectively,
like the bearer of bad news
who has come to comfort,
which plays with my darker side.
What ominous event comes this autumn
that I need protecting?
What is it this winter brings
that I need heaven’s sentry?

17
Oct
08

Veteran in a New Field

Veteran in a New Field
By Darren King [copyright 2008]

I’m not sure exactly
how these things happen.
I started out on this path
waking early for years –
a burst of creative expression
in written word,
a whole body of work produced.
But then there is the other work too –
that puts the food on the table,
that pays the bills.
This work takes precedent
as it should
over the negotiations
of sentences and syllables.
But it as if I threw my hands into the air
and became less willing to brave
the loneliness of empty thoughts.

No wonder then, I take to poets
who were farmers, or who grew up on farms.
Farming and writing –
both require a lot of heavy lifting
and waking early and lonely hours
when there is no one to help,
no one but you
to get what needs to be done, done.
Lord knows you’re not in it for the pay
and you wonder if anyone even notices,
if anyone even cares.
And then you hit a drought,
or a stone and the wheels fall off,
all seems lost,
you can’t get it back together
you can’t get it back in the groove
you were in when everything
seemed so easy.
Hope becomes a thread
from which you hang yourself
grasping for any straw,
any straw that will see you through the day,
any straw that says things will turn up.

But then the thought comes to you
that maybe the drought is
part of the process –
to slow you down
to reprioritize your day
to get your bearings straight
to remember who you are
and speak the plain language
of the land you know
but have forgotten –
to plow ahead and be brave enough
to dig a little deeper and flush out
what was already there,
what has always been there.

02
Sep
08

Antidote to the Rejection Letter

Antidote to the Rejection Letter
By Darren King [copyright 2008]

The dream is always the same –
she is sitting next to me,
confident, beautiful,
gracefully turning
the pages of my poems,
telling me her favorites –
I love the imagery in this stanza,
that word, it’s so effective,
I must share it, she says.
With perfect enunciation
she reads aloud my work,
my words.
My poems sound so relevant,
so necessary,
when Oprah is reading them.




%d bloggers like this: