I was doing some tidying last night and came across my writing book. So, over the next wee while I will post my musings here. I will, however, put the date they were written as my post date so you may have to click through my tag cloud to find what little treasures interest you.
Shell
5.9.08
Insides hollowed out - nothing there at all
husk
Walking through cities of glass; hallowed hall
husk
Dawn brings with her the promise of something
rust
But joy she does not bring - bells will not ring
rust
Instead she brings life; more hours - walking husk
Posted by Neal Barber at 10:39 am 0 comments
Labels: complete, desolation, hollow, poem, poetry
We All Know This One...
28.8.08
The work day looms large
Begins to lengthen, extend
Longer as week wanes
Another Day...
27.8.08
Vagueness pushing in from the edges
Clambering, clinging, clawing
Vagueness threatening to take over
Pulling, pushing, pressing
Vagueness dragging me under
Posted by Neal Barber at 9:13 am 0 comments
Ooze
18.8.08
The wells of creativity slow to a trickle. What once gushed forth now takes effort to squeeze; the resulting dribble is the pus from a festering blister on the face of humanity. As a great man once said: "The spirit is willing but the flesh is unable." In my case the spirit's willingness is not matched by its ability. Perhaps just waiting for some time; let the muse strike when he will - dressed in his robes of pure-white tinged with the blood of the martyrs. He does not come when you call. Or perhaps he is just out of the office at the moment.
Posted by Neal Barber at 4:58 pm 0 comments
Labels: darkness, drivel, fragment, melancholy, muse
"True I talk of Dreams"
4.8.08
The remembered flash of lightening burnt on your retina; lingering long. I still remember you. When time slows down to creep imperceptibly. I can smell you; taste you; feel you. Even though you are not here with me anymore I can sense your ghost. It has taken so long; ghosts still worry me; there is no sanctuary in dreams.
Posted by Neal Barber at 11:40 am 0 comments
Labels: dream, fragment, ghosts, love, melancholy
Darkness...
24.7.08
Darkness has fallen. The campus is deserted; my heart shrouded in doubt. I walk through this place but lack the sense of belonging. The sense of love. Yet somewhere, deep inside, the welling begins.
Posted by Neal Barber at 7:05 pm 0 comments
Labels: darkness, desolation, fragment, love