Maybe I used to write like a crazy person

I found a thing. An old thing I wrote a long time ago. November 2005 to be exact. I find it to be bizarre… and I wanted to share it.

Like the Dead

Fighting past the barren sky, I fear the trembling… coming again. The lights are out, and I am indeed, alone. I am erased from that which was, and never will be again.

They know nothing, and I do not owe anyone. I have been laid out for them to see, and pass judgement on my frailty. There are no subtle jestures in their eyes, no faith or fiction.

I am cherished in some minds, although the words are delayed. None will spill into this world, they shall but drift unto countless euphoric moonlit skies, and pass through the ages.

Forgotten moments of clarity are what haunt the good. Simple enchantments are innocently cruel, bringing forth torment to those who wish to seek the broken and unholy. They did not give themselves to me; I only wished to share.

They no longer see the darkness in my eyes, yet I can see theirs. Simple twists and turns are reborn; something rather beautiful. I feel serenity in knowing… they are like the dead.

Rest assured, I am always there. Not wanting to be, yet still I remain, holding on to the hope that maybe one day I will be missed. I know that I was less than pure, but I was everyone else but me…

Sorrow depart! There is no time to meddle with such things. I feel the fear rising. Closed within this pale exterior, lies a creature with an unmeasured wealth of beauty…

My mind is blank…

She lies dormant, unwilling to be awakened. She refuses this time, and this place. She speaks; I must return to where the grass is greener, to where the lights are brighter… resist the urge to unstep the forward path…

And so I fall. With a hunger still unsatisfied, I tread the road I have been before. Alone, without heart, yet still breathing, wanting and needing. The dawn has risen…

…and a rose has blossomed.

Finished on 22nd November 2005 at 02:06 GMT

WHAT.

One word prompt – maybe

Random poetry subject in alternate sonnet variation

Over the years, I’ve written poetry on many subjects. Here is one about a Native American woman…

By Midnight Hour

She journeys on by midnight hour
Her heart and soul lie near nor far
With one companion at her side
Still safe from white man’s vicious pride

She’s holding fast the thoughts and fears
To never face again the years
Of all that she has had to hide
Still safe from white man’s vicious pride

Her moon wolf visions keep her right
Revealing her most inner light
The guard’an spirit brings good tide
Still safe from white man’s vicious pride

She journeys on by midnight hour
Still safe from white man’s vicious pride

Written on 20th July 2005 at 02:28 GMT

One word prompt – vision

Here lie the remains

For many years, I have been a musician. But I am the musician who won’t play. I won’t play due to fear; fear of what, I don’t know. I thought the fear only surfaced in recent years, but, as can be seen from the date on this poem, it’s been going on a lot longer than I’d dared to accept.

The Rose is Gone

I cannot sing
My lifeline gone
No Rose of Song
I fear the end

Written on 29th March 2005 at 20:53 GMT

One word prompt – sing

And so it goes, a word blast

Little under 24 hours ago, I wrote my first ‘poem’ since July 2010. I say ‘poem’ because it’s the first semi-creative word blast that has come out of my head in a long time and I’m not quite sure of it. It hasn’t even got a title. It’s just a jumble of words that may or may not come to any sense in the future. But I know it’s the start of the creative mess that’ll be coming soon, now that a trickle has started. The dam will break!

Untitled Word Blast

and so it goes
the sun has ceased its golden song
but in this, our first encounter brought
with it a finer moment’s bliss
and this will I, who chose in me
the same old song
the same old fears
for that which lies in darkness
lies not in these, my deepest thoughts
but when I blow away the flowers
I know that greater is the one that lives in me

Written on 20th May 2016 at 00:02 GMT

Pensive one-word prompt https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/27030/posts/1031822176

What happens when words don’t work?

There was a time I struggled to get words out. Any words. Some would argue that’s still the case…

Sha…terd

Cracked
almost
shattering
my soul against
your words for another time, another…

…fist
one more
smack to my
heart with demon
vocabulary and innocent eyes

You
under
estimate
my abili…
…ty to show the unspeakable for you

Written on 9th January 2010 at 00:21 GMT

In response to Underestimate – http://wp.me/p23sd-120m

In response to Business in Rhyme’s post on limericks

Many moons ago, when I was in high school, I wrote limericks. I tried to make them as daft as possible: sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. The cool thing about limericks is that they’re very easy to remember – even when you wrote them 20-ish years ago…

Scratchy Cratchet

There once was a man called Cratchet
who always his head did scratch it
His wife did not like it
so off she did strike it
Poor old Scratchy Cratchet

One night when his wife was asleep
he into her bedroom did creep
“Oh my,” said his head
“I’m under the bed,
but what has she done wif me teef?!”

Written some time between 1994 and 1996

What sparked this? Here: Business in Rhyme: This limerick goes in reverse

Here’s a silly little ditty, not so witty…

Many years ago, never mind how many exactly, I came across a quote…

“If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad” – Lord Byron

This poem, here below, is the result of my discovery of the quote.

Gotta Empty My Mind

Sludge…
that’s how I’m describing the contents of my noggin

Thick, slow-moving
and barely tangible
beware the contents of my noggin

I feel it slightly ominous
and ever so delightful
the contents of my noggin

But who shall take the time
to fight like a run-away dream?

No one, I tell you, no one
shall brave the sticky nonsense
that is the contents of my noggin

It’s all the build up, you see
of audio infuria and verbal acquiescence
that is the contents of my noggin

Sludge
is where I’m stuck… (contents of my noggin)

Written on 15th March 2010 at 20:43 GMT
(yes, I know it was a gazillion years ago…)

Here lies the purpose of my blog. Emptying my brain of various words that rumble around in there. Sometimes it will appear in the form of poetry (see above), but most of the time it will be reviews and opinions on books, music, film and TV. I fully intend to be somewhat amusing, but let’s just see what happens…