I can’t write poetry.
I fucking hate a lot of things.
Here they come again.
Words and more words.
meaningless simple words.
I am sure it will mean something to someone somehow.
Fuck this and fuck that.
look I cursed – I’m no Shakespeare,
though I admire him,
and every great poet since.
I am my poem.
I am a bad mood, a lazy day
a stoner and a drinker.
who believes in God and the devil too.
I am elated, a hard worker friendly and humble,
but today is just today and this moment is just this moment.
I can’t write poetry
I write my mood, my thoughts, my day.
I write my hopes and dreams and nightmares;
I write my courage to conquer the future.
I am no great poet, no great man,
I am no great friend or son or brother,
I am no great Christian,
I may be half demon,
in the end,
I’m just another human.
and struggle daily to make meaning of what that means.
Ron bergquist December 19th 2014