Thursday, August 13, 2009

Feature: Mike Finley Day 5


We are fluff that has been blown on,
We part company with one another
And float into the aloneness.
We wander so long
Borne aloft by breath, aching
To see one another again
Yearning to be stitched together at the foot
And it is like that until one day we come to rest
And realize that we carried the secret
Inside us all along, that we arise
From the core of a golden sun
And the day of blooming ourselves
Has been gathering inside us
All the while

Artwork and Poetry © Mike Finley

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Interview Question

How do you think your poetry impacts the lives of others?


This has to be an article of faith. You write something, you release it into the wild, and maybe it finds its way to someone.

You will never know what good it did anyone. But there is a chance that at some point – maybe years after you write the damn thing – it will come to just the right person, and they will find encouragement in it, or a good laugh that they really need to have.

There are more immediate points of feedback. Letters to the editor, comments on zine websites, email from editors and such. But that stuff is almost always inside baseball – people who are up to their ears in poetry, or people who want something weird from you, or want to swap compliments, or favors.

This weird talk is usually your fault, too. It is shop talk, which is usually brutal.

Maybe at a party, someone who has had a drink will realize you are that guy, and they will say, “Oh, that made me cry!”

And if you are very fortunate, you will be able to accept that compliment. You gave a gift, and years later, it made its way back to you.


  1. Really, really like this piece. I felt this and I love the image of personal blooming.

    Thanks for sharing your work here Mike.
    I've enjoyed all your postings here so far.. And your informative and thoughtful answers to the interview questions.

  2. Thanks, Chris. I've been enjoying all the attention! And you and Jen have created something very hospitable and friendly. Thank you for that.

  3. "...that we arise
    From the core of a golden sun"

    That's lasting image.

    The interview responses this week: all free of pretense.

  4. Beautiful, Mike. Love the title-- it's so perfect. This is one of those poems that gets inside and becomes a part of your thinking.

  5. I want to send you a poem wait i will just put the link u can copy and paste this unless it works then just hitthelink OH SIR

  6. You speak only Truth, my friend.

  7. Charles' rhapsodic poem:

    Violet RainBow

    What a vision of all the colors I would pick.

    Silver and Gold most people see in the clouds so high.

    Sometimes yellow in the sun.

    Sometimes clouds aer white and bloated with black and rainy blues.

    What I saw when I arose this day is simple.

    Hard descriptions fail me.

    Quit simply I saw ewe. Mye love. Mye Snow White turtle dove.

    This DandyLion almost roared in lust.

    I ignored the realities around me the concrete and the blood.

    Somewhere in the vault of time a door was open in mye mind.

    There I saw mye ewe mye wife.

    Or just her essence there her parfume is waiting there.

    Her odour so sublime like lemons and other fruits.

    I saw a Violet rainbow no shades or other hues.

    Somewhere just below the Throne Of GOD.

    But still above the sun.

    Violet ewe love ewe so much.

    This dandylion is undone.