National Poetry Month Celebration 2015
Bio: Larry Wilfong's world is coming together in a harmonious and syncronistic manner. He and his family recently purchased a home and Larry has retired from the building trades. He now drives a school bus for a little rural school in Vermont and is considered a local favorite. Larry's latest projects include freelance writing for his town's paper and learning to play the violin. He enjoys watching his family bloom; Larry is in a good place- He's found everything, and with it a place for it all to exist.
The Interview
- Where do you draw your inspiration from to write poetry? I am inspired by what my new eyes see, everywhere I look.
- What advice do you have for someone that is threatened by poetry? I cant actually imagine poetry to be threatening to anyone, but if it is I would say that “your fears or anger may be caused by external influences but it is uniquely yours. Stand up to it and show it who's the boss.
- What is an interesting fact about you? I know now, less than I knew back then. I find myself knowing less each day. In place of these knowings, I feel that I now understand more.
- Where are you from/Where do you live? in Havre De Grace Md, raised in SC, currently reside in Vermont and will always continue to live in the Now.
- Who is your favorite poet? Dante, Homer, Poe
A Poem
Untitled
by Lary WIlfong
raised in a darkness that told me I was alone, a tiny corner in my mind was my home. The only place lit well enough for me to see, the darkness was not there originally. In fact it was mine, a gift given by man, who trained me to be jaded, angry and bland. Then came the fire raging within, to consume my being like bits of kindling. When the smoke clear I lay upon the ruble, a pyro who burnt up all of his trouble. The walls in my mind collapsed, I was free. Except for the part where, I didn't know me. A long lonely walk before I found a hand, it took mine in its and we traveled the land. The feelings before would not have been felt, they were now new cards that I had been dealt. No place left within me that I could go hide, the struggle the burden, now has bolstered my pride. Along came the flowers that her and I had sown, there is now no where left for me to be alone. The old me had died, in that fire of mine, a new me reincarnated in that moment of time. I drink from her cup and she from my own, the Woman and the flowers that together we sown. Looking back to that small little space, I can see the light that shone on my face. It was not a bulb or angel in disguise, it was the hope for a future I was to realize. Now is the present, a present indeed. The gift I was promised in my time of need. Grander adventures lie across our path, eyes to the forward no sense to look back. And so gladly I parade in this world filled with gloom, I broke from myself and left that small room. Darkness I still see though it is not inside, it covers the faces of those who will have died. So too, I hope that they burn, and step into the open, to be free, in their turn.
by Lary WIlfong
raised in a darkness that told me I was alone, a tiny corner in my mind was my home. The only place lit well enough for me to see, the darkness was not there originally. In fact it was mine, a gift given by man, who trained me to be jaded, angry and bland. Then came the fire raging within, to consume my being like bits of kindling. When the smoke clear I lay upon the ruble, a pyro who burnt up all of his trouble. The walls in my mind collapsed, I was free. Except for the part where, I didn't know me. A long lonely walk before I found a hand, it took mine in its and we traveled the land. The feelings before would not have been felt, they were now new cards that I had been dealt. No place left within me that I could go hide, the struggle the burden, now has bolstered my pride. Along came the flowers that her and I had sown, there is now no where left for me to be alone. The old me had died, in that fire of mine, a new me reincarnated in that moment of time. I drink from her cup and she from my own, the Woman and the flowers that together we sown. Looking back to that small little space, I can see the light that shone on my face. It was not a bulb or angel in disguise, it was the hope for a future I was to realize. Now is the present, a present indeed. The gift I was promised in my time of need. Grander adventures lie across our path, eyes to the forward no sense to look back. And so gladly I parade in this world filled with gloom, I broke from myself and left that small room. Darkness I still see though it is not inside, it covers the faces of those who will have died. So too, I hope that they burn, and step into the open, to be free, in their turn.
Special Recognition
My wonderful wife Janelle is heading out on tour! Catch her at Wannee and Return to Roots, or find her online and watch amazingness in action at www.janeticsink.com.
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