what do they matter,
these poems
in their worn kitschy shoes;
precocious words
wobbling on seashell soles,
deconstructing life,
building rhymes on lost free will;
wise, before their time.

do you hear the pages turn,
as you lie on the sand,
waves painting your toenails,
knowing in the lick of each salty breath,
that the light trapped in a seagull wing,
the shadow under a crab’s bent limb,
the cadence of a minstrel’s heart;
all crept out of those long ago wombs,
only to start the journey
back to where it first began.

what do they matter,
these veiled poems,
in their patched sequinned gowns,
even the tepid starlight
watches its reflection
float away on the waves,
reading only the unwritten signs,
wise, beyond its time.


42 thoughts on “Matter

  1. I think i matters that they record the light, the shadow, the cadence, the reflection. Otherwise that precise moment would be lost forever. And if some of mine only matter to me, still it is pleasant at times to go back and remember what sparked the writing. 🙂


  2. I love those ‘wobbling on seashell soles’ – you could argue that poems are everything and nothing..they help us see the world, share the world, show the world..will they save the world – probably not but if they add colour to even one life or one moment they can be a matter of life and death itself..


  3. Lovely..!! Poems do matter as they originate from the bottom of our hearts 🙂 especially love:

    building rhymes on lost free will;
    wise, before their time.

    Excellent write.
    Lots of love,


  4. Oh, they matter a lot…..especially for the one who writes them who will look back at them perhaps decades later and say, yes – that is what I thought!


  5. “the light trapped in a seagull wing” : how lovely is that, that’s poetry!
    just like Jae Rose earlier in the comments pointed out, poems are everything and nothing, and i think they still matter, they do.


  6. “It”–each–matters, and together they create a world bigger than the mortal coil. Take this poem for example! What a masterful piece of irony. My world is less heavy, less apt to complaint and wasted matter because of it!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. They do – they chart our journey, if nothing else. They may remain as a testament to who we are, and one day our relatives may actually read them and finally get to know us, LOL. Plus the moment you capture – “the light trapped in a seagull wing” – is a moment only you saw, and through your words, shared with all of us across the world.


    1. Thank you Sherry… That would be terrific if it happens but how much really do we know about the poet by reading their poems…I wonder how much of me is reflected in what I write..the entire line of questioning in the poem is pretty much internal I suppose.


  8. I am working on a manuscript of poems at the present moment. Thus I am very familiar with the pondering you pose. My answer is yes poems are everything, and yes they are nothing and all the points between those two realities. If only one of the hundreds of lines I have written has meaning to another, brings them joy, understanding, or awareness, then I have accomplished what I was set on this earth to do. I don’t even have to know of that other, because the poems are my hope, as well as my purpose. As long as I make them they tell me that I have lived, am still alive, still breathing. Do they really need to do more than that? I think not.



    1. That’s a lovely thought Elizabeth, thank you. If poetry is the purpose of your life then I think you are doing very well indeed…good luck with your manuscript, would love to read it when it is out. Cheers.


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