Bela Selendy
(skip to poems)

So what's my excuse?


around the middle of September, 1999, I was quietly strolling along, minding my own business, when something bit me sharply in the ass. I whirled around, grabbed the offending creature by the tail, and bellowed:

"What do you want from me?"

"Poetry," the creature barked, then melted into the woods, leaving its detachable tail dangling.

In the very short time that has elapsed, poetry has grown to a bit more than a mere obsession. I suddenly realized, aghast, that I had more or less ignored poetry throughout my entire life. Big mistake. Now I suddenly had about thirty years of catching up to do. How to expedite that process?

What you see in these pages is the continually evolving attempt to answer that question. Full immersion, critical evaluation, extensive reading, study, and continuous writing seem to be at least several vital parts of the answer.

Join me as we stumble forward on a lifelong journey, filled with direction, devoid of final destination.

Below, you'll find a selection of the scribblings that have emerged in the months since that first painful chomp. I hope to be able to look back on these efforts in a year, or a decade, and scoff heartily at their hopeless inadequacy. If I can, maybe I will have learned something along the way.

Bela's Poetry