Tag Archive | interpretation

Random… um… Prose?

(nov 2008)

I don’t know what to call this kind of thing. I’m sure there’s a term for it, and if I put a lot of random returns in I could call it poetry, but whatever. It is what it is.


I sit at the edge of consciousness and dreams, and stare past the glass. Cold fire and tight stars littler the streaky sky as the night takes over and passes by the day. And as this dark mistress steals over the world I am trapped in limbo, neither awake nor asleep, but drifting half in and half out of that other place; the place where dreams and inspiration lie. And as I hang, suspended at its edges, I feel that I am close to some revelation. Some truth, about to be revealed, tickles the tips of my fingers, though I cannot grasp it. The exclamation of discovery quivers on the edge of my lips but refuses to be vocalized. Yet I can feel it; destiny is so close that I can almost taste it.

The fire dies and the darkness grows and with it the restlessness of my spirit. I strive too hard to touch this unattainable thing – this knowledge which is waiting for me to find it. I try too hard and it slips from my grasping hand and fades away into the late twilight. Though I try to bring it back, I find that it is utterly gone and that the chance fled when I applied too much force.

Is not that the way of the world, and of humanity? When we see some fluttering beauty weaving just out of our grasp, do we sit and wait in quiet, finger extended and expectant, for the butterfly of reward to light upon it, or do we run and stomp and cry as we try to tackle down the elusive dream and wrangle it into submission? The dream must submit to our hard hands, it must form the way we wish and give us that which we desire, and it must do it now.

And with these threats, the gently fluttering treasure flies away at break neck speed, and we are left stumbling alone through a field of yesterday’s stubble and wondering why nothing good comes our way. We let the stalks crunch beneath our feet, never looking down or thinking what damage we might do to those who we walk over. All the while we moan and cry because we have not been fulfilled, we have not been given what we deserve.

But what do we deserve? A throne to sit upon and dictate edicts to the common man? But who is the common man? The one who has yet to catch his dream, or the one who we deem to be beneath us? Who decides what rank and privilege is handed out? Is it in our hands or the hands of the universe?

But the universe- oh the universe – how fickle does she seem as she dances always out of reach, tantalizing the weary with the golden truth but never handing it out. Still, what would we do with the truth? If she gave of it freely would we even know? Or would we be too busy staring at the sky and moaning our misfortune to see that truth lay all around us, bathed in purple as the sun died for the night?

photo by me

Fav song of the moment – Simple and Clean (long remix) – Utada Hikaru 

Random Acts of Poetry

Another new blog. Holy smokes!

Okay, so I was updating my website the other day (another shocker!) and I thought “I should generate some poetry to slap on there!” because I tend to churn the free flow stuff out in a few minutes (especially if it doesn’t rhyme!) and so it’s an easy update. I didn’t end up using any of it, as it turned out I have some stuff I submitted to a mag awhile back that hadn’t seen the light of day (will post it in the future) but I thought that we could have some interpretation fun!


That’s right. Interpretation fun. I will post three random acts of poetry and you tell me their meaning! There’s no right or wrong answer, so read away and tell me what YOU get out of them!




The rain drips

The canvas crawls

Moonlight steals across the room

So many thoughts betray this wicked mind

A phantasmagoria of sight, taste and sound

Rainbow wishes made of porcelain

That break at the sound

Of the cricket’s




The meaning hidden behind the mask

It crumbles though your fingers like the dawn

Broken shield of your imperfections

In a place where all the dreams were held together

By a rusty colored staple

And a piece of faded twine

As if a child had stored them away

To keep until they grew, like some treasure

Tarnished by the years and stained

With dust tracks of forgotten tears

The taste of empathy still lingers

In forgotten hollows of imagination

And all that once was, is lost

And what remains is just a wrinkled phantom

Still clinging to the illusions

Of yesterday



An eternity of silence drips

Like raindrops from the eaves of time

And drowns this petty room with suffocating tension.

Words have deserted us and left our mouths empty

Fleeing from the scene as though running

From some tragedy replete with flashing lights

And witness statements, too many signatures to count

Now we are just casualties of our own indecision

Injured by our fears and trepidations

All the apologies we should have made

And confessions that we should have spoken

Now to old and heavy to give life to

So there is nothing left to say or do

Except scream silently inside and pray

That someone can see the blood mixed with our tears

And save us before it is too late

And this ever growing silence

Suffocates us both


Did you get anything out of those? or is it just a random smattering of meaningless words strung together because they sound cool? YOU decide!

P.S. Titles would be helpful, too!

Fav song of the moment – 30 Seconds to Mars -Hurricane

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