About this Christian Poet:
I am a student in Montreal who is studying English Literature. I love writing poetry but sadly, often only have time to write my essays and papers.
It is hard to write poetry
because of poetry
the millions of lines
that crowd this elastic
continent till every time you turn
you find yourself saying
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” to metaphors
you would have used
if you had only got there first.
Everywhere there are people
setting up tents, claiming
the rocky tide pools or blackened
coal mines, so that they and only they
can ponder the re-growth of a sea star’s
legs or comment on the injustice of the danger
it took to claim the dark, black veins.
It is hard not to write poetry
because of poetry.
In the liquid database of ideas
everything connects like synapses.
After reading Ozymandias
you suddenly remember
those bone china tea cups
your great aunt left you at her death
all her pride forgotten but for
the expensive stamps
on each skeletal body
and you say “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
because P.B. Shelley is dead,
you can transpose his idea
so easily, gently even
into the teacups
till it rests, submissive
at your fingertips
a very young brew once more.
Copyright ©2009 by Christy Frost