Of late the sergeant thrill-to-burn, remains, at best unorthodox, a cutter’s stock of winsome blend compiled in slim anthologies. To date, an urgent threnody bates, cider- pressed, impertinent as bargain basement demagogues renounce their crass belief.
Rude, canon-balled, eccentrics venting, hurt- inflected metaphors, unpoured memento-mori, cursing absence of reprieve. Misfortune flavoured pockets, line the boxcar-lite Praetorian, event amended anecdotes, plied ammonite in grief.
I'm not so sure if I get a bit of what You were experiencing here, for me it was like a war between You and Your "desire" to write, a battle between You and Your pen, wanting, needing to rest Your pain down on a page, soldier is a good metaphor here, he is brave, as well as he is loaded with so much pain, sadness and grief inside his spirit, these words are more like a lament of his heart.
Posted 6 Years Ago
6 Years Ago
You pretty much got it there, my friend!, Good eyes!
To be inspired, to be moved to write- or.. read moreYou pretty much got it there, my friend!, Good eyes!
To be inspired, to be moved to write- or express in any medium- is something, that we all hold dear.
It is a need to exhale, after taking in the moments that move.
It is something that exists slightly beyond the idea we call ourselves.
It is also something that has served me well down the years as a catharsis of sorts.
Yet, lately ( in concert with events that have recently occurred) I have found that when something has sparked the need to write, and i venture into that quiet area of thought, I cannot hold the image pure, and it becomes tarnished far too easily with that which still haunts.
There is a futility, that I recognize, but at present, cannot exorcise.
Thank you my friend, and hope you are well.
6 Years Ago
You can say the same about me here, I've been lately and form a while out of the "inspiration" zone,.. read moreYou can say the same about me here, I've been lately and form a while out of the "inspiration" zone, I even took a break from here for a while and just started coming back slowly, at least be happy my friend something came out here :)
so nice to know that I still have good "mind" eyes :)
I'm well, I pray that You are doing well in Your still grieving time.
I write because I cannot paint.
I enjoy the flavor of words, their subtle tastes and textures.
I savor their spice and their sea salt.
They are washed in on tides of thought, and i comb the strand.. more..