November 4, 2004

how to calm down

By Tony Brown

The edge
of my seat
is bent from me sitting here.

Stand up, I tell myself.
A poem can’t save the world. Get
to it.

When I step away from the poem
for a moment,
a world builds itself upon the paper.

When I come back, the room’s underwater
and the poem rises above it,
a white seaport, everything sails toward it.

I go and sit on its docks. What was it
I was thinking before, before the new world
rose in the heart of the poem?

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown
This entry was posted on Thursday, November 4th, 2004 at 4:36 pm and posted in uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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