83. write me a letter


 will anybody tell me if i’m missing out on life?

will anyone write me a letter just so i know?

and everybody seems to be making a film, a compilation of their thoughts right here, right now. irony is, i’m wasting my words on the wind, across the telephone wires that stretch inside my head. and when i am brave enough to speak my words out, they are spoken to you alone. what about the rest of the world? how will they ever know? 

you made a film with your friends. i guess that’s what you do in youth.
me? i used to leave my colouring books blank for fear of spoiling them. funny me.
and whenever creativity came to me, i wrote the words, drew the pictures on scraps of paper. i still have some of them. little pieces of my mind written in quickhand.

and though none of them relate to you, all that i remember of X is there: they are silent exultations, utterances of pain and dreams. they are free. 

sometimes, i still wish i coloured those pictures in.
and sometimes i know there’s no use wishing: it’s all too late now. i’ve sketched my life out in this morning sunshine. whatever happens now was always meant to be.

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10 responses to “83. write me a letter

  1. Faces shutter too quickly
    when bodies pass
    on sidewalks and street corners,
    in parking lots and rest stops;

    their light bounces
    through beady eye ports,
    like this:
    flick
    stick
    flick
    stick
    until a crinkly image
    penetrates fog,
    unfolding as I cognize
    another living thing
    moving near me.

    But one is like another,
    is like another,
    is like a flick flick flick
    with nothing sticking;

    I’m lifting my feet,
    knees pushing up against
    our sun and its moon and stars,

    nothing’s moving
    forward for never
    expect the flicking faces
    shuttering through
    convex portholes
    in a ship deceived by light,
    mistaking it for something more.

    Continue, ye vessel of wonder,
    forward
    on
    forward
    on;
    sail this sea of nothing for never;
    otherwise, all is useless
    flick flick flicking
    never stick stick sticking
    around.

  2. I think that you’re one colourful writer, your colours strewn all beautifully well in all your poems. ;)

  3. whoa! .. I say again.. whoa!!!

    truely amazing writings.
    you’re painting with words :)

    glitter on

  4. your words are amazing! truly amazing. you are unaware of the beauty sleeping inside your heart, soul.

  5. Have you ever read The Artist’s Way? I think you’d like it a lot. it says that creativity is normal for everybody, but it is so suppressed for fear of “spoiling” the blank page, and criticism and all that. I love your writing. Don’t stop!

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