Ramblings #2

The little wisp,
Upturn of hair at the very end,
I fight with it,
Plead on mental knees,
But still it entrances,
Me to a losing gamble,
I am a fool,
To be snared like this,
Delirious boy,
Yet I sit,
Float here,
With my knowledge,
Tending to it,
Like a windowsill fern,
With plenty of sunlight,
Bright and green and lush,
But for the wind,
Ever faithful,
Honest wind,
Will knock and shatter,
The little clay pot,
The wisp of hair,
And with my knowledge,
I wonder,
Doesn't the plant live on?


I have forgotten,
how complicated things are,
how hard it is to comprehend,
and how many things you could really be saying.
I am lacking,
that desire,
for fulfillment from others.
I have the sea,
the sounds of crashing waves,
hunting gulls,
blazing wind,
I have the feel of wet sand,
and the hard mountain rock.
I am, for lack,
at all I have to find,
and share,
if you will have it.



Oh, and just in case anyone's wondering, the novel is NOT dead, on the contrary it has just been given a surge forward and the future seems promising! (as far as this level of writing goes of course) Unfortunately I don't plan on posting any of it so you'll have to AIM me for excerpts (all 4 people who read this, you know my AIM sillies.)

Dropping the Ball

I love,
the failures that I find,
myself committing hourly,
they bring me closer to earth,
sinking my feet below the soil,
humbly cutting tender flesh,
on jagged rocks that have never seen,
remember every mistake you committed,
when we made a decision,
firm resolution to get it right,
and we are,
getting it right,
right up to our necks in life,
choking on laughter,
breeds tears,
of experience.
I think I would like to succeed,
now I'll play with the children,
outside accomplishments,
and wonder,
at everyone and everything,
all stars in the night sky.