I Love Dead Poets

I am Kristin. I teach and write poetry. My inspiration comes from other poets, especially Tomas Transtromer and Yvor Winters. As you can tell from the title of my blog, I like my poets nice and dead.

A beaten and battered crew, we lean on the bed of an old Brockway

April 4, 2014

Along the flag lines streets,

the people are in mourning

they slumber in mourning

they wake in mourning

even the bridges bow in mourning

the badges, the roses:

all in mourning

and there is nothing that will make this okay

make us okay

mourning sighs, mourning cries,

mourning has bloodshot eyes

mourning is.

The procession is long

and the sorrow

and the wind

in this town that has buried

it’s fallen


Rich in royal blood

Sir Death tends his garden

Petals, bones, & scythe

The Talk

Yesterday morning

she left to have a long talk

about them. About them,

their relationship.

It must have been a good talk.

She’s still not home.


I’m breaking in a new notebook for the occasion,

but a shadow lingers over these words.

It could be poor lighting, being left-handed, or a Jungian metaphor.

Hmm. I tried it right-handed, and it’s just a pesky shadow.

Angelic Airlines

Angelic jet lag

all that travel to and fro

throughout space and time

Do they serve nuts on this flight?

No, sir. Budget Cuts.

Silver Tones

Question an angel

about her presence on earth.

She’ll laugh like glitter

and tumble onto the bed

burying her face in down.

A day late, but here is my first NaPoWriMo poem:

Golden Crown’d Empress

Brings Blessings of the Falcon:

Spread your wings and soar.


Super excited for the challenge of a poem a day for the next month!