Saturday, October 28, 2006

Literary Journal

This semester I've been extremely busy with school, and as a result, I haven't had much time for writing. Hopefully I will be graduating in December - if I can finish my honors project in time. Right now, I've been focusing on grad school applications. I wish I could hire an administrative assistant to handle all this paperwork.

When I began writing these poems not quite six months ago, I originally intended for them to therapeutic, private matters, which I published on a semi-anonymous blog just to put them out there somewhere. Starting this blog has involved me a little bit in a community of writers and I've enjoyed it immensely. In recent months, I've even begin sharing my work with friends and family outside of this blog. Surprisingly, people like it. This private endeavor is becoming more and more public. Yesterday, a poster advertising our school's literary magazine caught my eye. I thought it would be fun to submit a couple of poems and see what happens.

So, friends, I'm in need of your input. Which poems (if any) do you think I should submit? The submission deadline is midnight, this upcoming friday. Leave a comment, and let me know any feedback you have. Thank you so much!

Little Slips of Paper

It’s those little slips of paper
That break your damn heart –
Reminders of what once was
And will never be again.

A post-it with a phone number
And a dead grandmother’s name
Reminding you to wish her a happy birthday.
Did you call her that day?
Screw it, she’s gone.

A small white sheet
Neatly folded, again and again
With lyrics to the Mexican birthday song you sang to him
From miles away –
Your heart bursting with longing and desire.
Was his cold as he listened to you?
Fuck it, it’s over.

Her Black Hairs

Her black hairs
stick to everything
Reminders of the woman
He will never escape
And all the risks
He’d never take
For fear of disapproval.

Her black hairs
Must be pried away
Day by day
But still they stay
Frowning, laughing, smiling.

One day, when she’s gone
The black hairs will make him cry
And he will gather them up
With loving care
And burn them all away.