By Casey Gauthier
These poems are often
nothing more than something I've spilled without thinking
The words are pieces of my very essence
that I somehow left behind
on one of many average days
I've not actually forgotten
and I'm not actually ignoring
I'm simply overflowing
in a way that lets you reap the benefits
That which becomes displaced is for you to keep, to cherish, to read and burn into your mind
My hands are too full
and life doesn't allow one to take half and come back for the rest
Whatever I can haul, I must
Whatever gets left behind, please do not simply step over, step on, or throw away
That which overwhelms me and slips away may be the only piece of me you ever encounter
Words creating phrases, scribbled on scraps of paper
lined paper, construction paper, old receipts
Or entire verses crammed meticulously onto a corner of a napkin or back of a business card
Whatever piece of me that you get your hands on, treasure it as the only piece of me you may ever encounter
Treasure it as a shred of a soul, a drop of blood, a last kiss
Let me be your treasure
You will be blessed
“I'm 27 years old and have been writing poetry since the age of 14. All of my poetry is free-verse and I mostly write it for myself; very little of it has actually ever been shared. I work at Marshfield Clinic and am currently taking a Medical Terminology course through Nicolet. I live in Woodruff with my boyfriend and our dog Kirk.”
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A Haiku
By Jeff Eaton
Sparrow tweets, retweets
Transmitting vernal urges
Lonely and thumbless
"The haiku form of 5-7-5 for a total of 17 syllables gives little leeway for digression, emphasizing one of the most attractive, to me, elements of poetry: concision. Haiku masters must scoff at the verbosity of the Twittersphere."
