To hell with it-
I got through four lines
five different meters and
still thought it read
So I crumpled up the paper and
deleted it off the page
struck the words from my mind
and then bitched about
Do I really need an explanation for this one, folks? I mean, I should have known it would be a Monday poem that gave me such hell. I had it all there, I swear and then it just sort of lingered and taunted me. Still, there’s always some good even for some really annoyingly bad work- the first title of collected work I am putting together will be titled Let’s Be Honest With Each Other. Why? Because I don’t want my first work to have some snazzy title or some pretty name ’cause, as you all might have noticed, that doesn’t seem to fit me very well and if there’s one thing I value in this world, it’s being genuine. Figured I might as well be myself if I am going to throw my writing out there for mass consumption.
Anywho, well here’s to hoping (as always) that your day flies by and that you’ve got something and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it’s mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain
So, there’s been a bit of writers block mixed with a healthy dash of holiday hoopla around here. Due to that, I’m doing the lazy but still enjoyable act of tossing up some of my favorite poems between my own. This one here is absolutely one of my top favorites, first seen in an old Toastmaster’s book that I picked up years ago. Great premise to the poem, and it’s something I try to constantly remind myself of each and every day.
Hope you are enjoying your holidays with a splash of something strong!
My muse tapped his finger against
the table, and went about fiddling
with his phone, dialing out in
search of a more active scene
while I hawked at the horizon,
gazing hopefully, straining my
neck in hopes to see a trail of dust
a cloud of smoke, something but
all there seemed to be was a
hot stale wind and a single lost
lazy tumble weed.
and, when my muse juked my gaze as he
snagged his jacket, I finally gave
into this applicable, dry rhyme
settling instead of obsessing and
deciding to go on about my life.
They’ll show up to the party when
they’re good and ready,
Welcome to the weekend, folks. Even though it was short one for most of us, it was far too long for my liking and, finally, the weekend’s come ridding in like the Calvary to save those of us who just felt like they couldn’t go another step. As you might have noticed from the post, my mind still seems to be adjourning on whether or not to keep working, so you get another post themed as such. Hopefully the decision will be made sometime this weekend, and I can get some more productive and livelier poems out! Either way, I hope your weekend is awesome and you drink yourself straight into the dawn!
My words didn’t come when called,
two weeks of being stalled and, look,
Words, disloyal strays that need
all the help they can get and, yet,
when I need a moment to deal with
life, I merely blink and they’ve
Gone in search of some other mouth,
another mind where they can shred,
memories up, and nest and hide,
lending themselves reluctantly,
never coming half the time!
I don’t know why I bother,
thumbing through pages, their
Here, uhh malice! Here, spite!
Here, malevolence! Umm, I know it
starts with an…A?
Ohhhh, what’s the
use of it? Not like I need them anyway,
getting vowels all over the rugs,
leaving plural little stains.
Fickle things, words.
You can’t live with them. You can’t live without them. Words and writers seem to have a rather unique relationship going on. They need writers to get written, and writers need them to, well, write. Either way, it can often be tense when one end isn’t working like it should. Now, in their defense, I did have about two weeks there where I couldn’t write. Still….
Anywho, hope you enjoyed the post today! Here’s to your week ending quickly! Hold on, cause there are only two days left, folks. You can do it and I’ll do whatever I can to make it seem just a little less far away 🙂