I’ve loved this song, this album, for ages. And I thought I should write a short thank you to everyone who reads and honours me with supportive comments on my blog (one that has no idea about its identity at times, but it’s fun!) and I have so enjoyed connecting with you through it. To steal another line from this song: “I’d go with you on a road to nowhere.”
There has been a lot on my mind lately. And before that, also. And, no doubt, before that. And then, for a while before that, not so much, because I had the flu really badly and I was just annoyed more than anything.
I have had different things I wanted to write about. But then my mind wandered, as it does, especially when I am hungry, and I found myself remembering the first time I read Jack Handey quotes. In a little store in Missouri, USA. Twenty plus years ago.
I laughed so hard I forgot I was on this planet for a moment, with all of its bad news infested bad newsiness. And as there seems to be so much of that lately, my mind returned to that happy place. So if you need to join me there for a moment, you are most welcome. These are for you (well, if I am honest, mostly for me, really. But I hope you can enjoy them too).
Also, I can’t remember why I titled this “profile”. There was a really good/pertinent/profound/moving reason for it, but you know, I am hungry.
“If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr Brave Man, I guess I am a coward.”
(Oh wait, now I am, maybe, remembering why I called this “profile”.
Images shamelessly stolen from who knows where exactly?
this rake isn’t as heavy as I thought it would be,
I feel your suggestions as you’re watching me
make these corrugations –
they were in my dreams,
bursting from the seams
of my mind’s eye.
From here below periphery,
silent door’s epiphany,
you hear my eyes as you look at me…
one of my current ear worms. if you need a little energy boost, or a push through a portal or something…(and if this video doesn’t play for you because you don’t live in the best country on earth 😉 there is this acoustic version:)
So after FFP and I figured out how to share this, because I am a bit share illiterate, and we are staring at our screens wondering where the ‘reblog’ button went…I am giving this a go…
If you are so inclined, click on this. I thought it was a gorgeous piece. And by piece, I mean the poem, as lovely as the artwork is.
LOVE it FFP!
(Also, I love that it’s not on Valentine’s Day).
Enigmas like this Don’t come ’round every bend: How best he be told, (In language aptly bold) Of the love, The constant LOVE I have for the storm of him? My impassions brimmed, I aim at words to tell it all, Make other love-claimers ashamed, Inadequate– Though even my claim is not Commensurate To the […]
I was a dream that ran down her face, in rivulets. I was washed down by the rain into the drain. I became a dream in a stream. She slumped over her phone, texting. As she cried, I ran faster down her cheeks.
Someone touched her shoulder from behind; I heard a voice speak louder than the dripping raindrops. She turned around and I stopped. I stopped running down her cheeks, I was soaked back up into her heart.
“Sorry I am late. Am I allowed to kiss you here?” the voice speaks. She nods, I feel safe, for now.
Thank you Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesday. I have missed writing stories. This is my first after a long time. Visit the link to read more tales.
I’m the man in the iron cage, the pilgrim with an unrepentant, unyielding heart, the prophet who has regressed into a poet with anguish breaking through bone, and then skin, the tendrils tying my tongue, muting my real howl and creating a soft shriek which they consider beautiful. I’m the Kierkegaardian stereotype, a freak tortured and tormented by his panoramic paranoia, a twisted, fucked up birds eye view of skulls and enemies, of corpses punching keys and hate, and I can’t see a horizon. I’m the label of everyone’s disgust, an animal in an asylum which sensibly speaks, but in alliteration—the zookeeper’s delight. “Look now, here’s Mr. Bipolar. Hysterically jump or flat line, it’s your prerogative, but make sure you entertain, because they’ve paid with their time and energy. Be Quick!” But the more I rattle, the more they rile. The more I lie, the more they cry, until I…