poem – Eli Steffen

This is an unedited poem from a 30-30 month in which I attempted to write 30 poems in 30 days.

Look in the construction site down the block. Wade out into the large, dirty puddle of the outpoured foundation and say hello to the creatures you find there.

Look in the sky, blue and open, light streaming all around you. Wonder at the ground as it hurtles towards you.

Look in your kitchen, empty shelves and rusty knives. The floor is wet, but it’s the corners you’ve really got to watch out for.

Look in the forest, dark and cozy. All around you’s the way, but there is no out.

Look on the mountain, up where the trees are gone and the rocks are loose. Mind the steep and don’t trust your tread.
Look in the ocean, right there on the surface. Currents pull out, waves push down, and arms… give… out

Look in your body, filthy, ugly home. If you were alone in there it might just be livable.

This is an ongoing series of my poems which I love, but am unsure why

Libraries Remind me of Birthdays

I paid 25¢ for this ballpoint pen.

I bought it halfway up the library staircase at my old college from a pen vending machine.

It’s the only pen vending machine I’ve ever seen and it looks old.

I bought it cause I had 25¢ on me and I never had this pen before.

Not in the 3 years I saw it walking up and down these same stairs.

I want to write great, transcendent poems with it in cafés in Paris.

I want it to mean that college was grand and life is an adventure and this feeling I’m having right now is the only emotion I’ll ever need.

Bit it doesn’t.

It’s a non-descript green and brown-maroon pen with gold trim.

But it’s compact and fits my hand and makes me think the legacy of a pen or a college is in what you do beyond it.

When the ink is out or the pen is lost, what can you do with what remains, with the indent of a pen in an empty hand?

September 30-30 #1: In Search of Night Terrors

Why My Love #3