Category: warmups
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Little beholds.
behold I have little to say. Nothing new in this revelation. You, oh my theater of empty seats, have borne with my musing ineptitude and will continue to bear with it, weather you like it or not. The poem in all its glory. little is beheld. worse little beholds. be holding little, and carry it…
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Hopelessly inept conversational agility.
Stepping on toes, stumbling through hedges. I fall upon my own sword before it is even drawn. A feat of such miraculous clumsiness it might be worth the telling. Oh words, why must you fail me. Friends of paper and ink flee me not. Yet words are not at fault, the great betrayer is the…
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More musings on road blocks
a rough musing this time around, I don’t feel like editing it. so don’t judge me to harshly. Nothing crushes the spirit of progress more than the understanding that you are writing trash. I have a desperate fear that I am not on the right path. My writing is waning, not waxing. No eloquence is…
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warm ups, ray Bradbury
lately I’ve been reading something wicked this way come. Which seems to be written more as a poem than a story. I enjoy his descriptions of things, I sometimes imitate that describing things by feeling rather than by site practice which he employs. I’m not sure if it makes for a good story though. The…
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ramblings while full of writers block.
Rich in terms of self proclaimed wit I carry myself up the hill of pride riding waves of caffeine to its summit. Behold, look upon the land and see that everything in the light is yours! But what of those places in the darkness? That valley of success, the halls of fame? No myself, You…
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Silliness the first word
For some reason when I sit down, pull up my chair, settle my hands upon the keys, take that breath, the release of which I will use to breathe life into a creation of words. For some reason the release of that breath always begins with “ Righteously”. When beginning a poem, my first thought…
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Warm ups, nonsense in practice.
Flatlining leads nowhere. Mundanewordsscatteredinordersofoperationsdeathatitsfinestshowsthatorderbecomesnonsense Peaks. Valleys. Contrast. Start to think my heart, breath breathed with my mind. I think in the free air and become lighter than the sky. I move faster than light and slower than space. Yetordermustbeimposed, ohhowtothinkhowtobreathhowtoflywhengrounded. That is why it is called an art. Balance is needed. Depth of spirit, straightness…
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warm ups, Lo, unto thee thy self.
Lo, there is nothing new under the sun. This cynical thought is a disease that inspires sloth. Why create, masters have paced the ground you walk. You take joy, ha fool. What joy can you have in your amature whimsy. Begon thou, leave the arts, and do not return till you get a degree in…
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madness
probably the arrogance it would take to write poetry about a subject such as madness is itself a forum of the subject matter. I can only defend myself saying ” I was bored.” There now I cannot be accused of any insensitivity in a subject area where I have no experience only, theories thoughts and…
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war ups
I noticed just now that my heading, a mistake, has demonstrated the properties of serendipity, a happy accident. War ups indeed. Dear reader I must make a confession. I have a rather hard case of writers block. ” but author and writer, You haven’t written anything of note, aside for some silly little poems.” Ah,…
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