Ramblings

Ramblings

Stepping out into the midnight
I feel it will be alright
fire in your eyes
fire in your words
fire on the phone
fire in your voice
fire in your text
fire in your mail

in the distance the siren wails
A wall of sound
I fight the urge
i am evil
i am not evil
i am not nice
i am nice
i am terrible
i am not terrible

no use looking back
but the memories lurk in the shadows
dark shapes whispering dark words
Oh how I wish it would rain
rain down on me
maybe I should give in
in to the walking dead
“Here, my arm. Take a mouthful”
let us be one

burn me up with the fever
when I rise again like the phoenix
I shall have conquered my past
No idea of the future
hell hath no fury …
what?
A thing; living in the present
never to dream again
free for all eternity
but what is freedom?
what is the price?
what is the prize?

What nonsense!
Get over yourself already!

 

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NOTE: this is just a placeholder. I think I wrote it without actually thinking in about 10 minutes. It has no merits; no saving grace – so don’t look for one.
“Someone” (VIP) asked today if I still write: if I still put anything up on this blog. I am actually writing 3 short stories (or maybe 4 or 5 or 6, definitely under 10 :-), but I have been slacking off. Only one is currently being written – slowly.
So if you read the above, thank you. You should then promptly forget it. I have: maybe.

You

You

Bundled against the cold
On a cold winters night
I wandered where I know not
Icy fingers can’t freeze my heart
Make me calm as the snow king
I think of you 

I looked at the sky
No stars
But they are there
Shining their light
I wish I was lost among them
Tell me how to define eternity
If not a day without you 

The leaves crunch underfoot
The lady smiled as I pass her by
Do I frighten her?
Maybe it is my eyes?
Why?
Do I frighten you? 

I wage war with the sins of my past
They fiddle with my mind
I am of late April
I am supposed to be strong
Stand firm against the tempests of life
I will – if by you 

I pass a man
A mugger I thought
“Jump me” says my eyes
Use the knife in your jacket’s pocket
Strike before the dried blood of your summer victim rusts your trusty blade
He didn’t hear me
Or maybe he thought he pitied me
Because of you 

I am back to my journey’s end
I opened the book
I turned the page
Paul tells me to stand firm if I could
But seek if I wont
So I knelt on the felt
Closing my eyes
I asked for you