The Ramblings of my Disorganised Mind

Stronghold

Listening to: Enya - The Memory Of Trees
NaNoWriMo Update: Nope. Nothing. Nada. Not a thing.
Current mood: Vacillating


Q How many copy editors does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A I can't tell whether you mean 'change a light bulb' or 'have sex in a light bulb'. Can we reword it to remove the ambiguity?



I don't write poetry, generally. I'm just not very good at it (see "Gothic Vogion Poetry ;-)). I used to write it, when I was in high school, but that was through the teen angsty stage. Everyone does that.

The exception to this is the stuff I'm writing for my BethNDane Books. (Oh, I haven't mentioned those. Those are the "current project" previously mentioned. Epic traditional fantasy--the ones I took to EnVision and sent to Varuna, to be completed for send out asap). I've written a lot of stuff for that. But the good news is, that most of them are in Barethian, so no-one can understand them anyway (unless you feel inclined to learn my almost-speakable language. No? No, I didn't think so. :-)). This is more of a blessing than you know, btw. Not being able to understand them. Hehe.

Hmm. By "exception" I mean, exception to the rule that I don't generally write poetry, not exception to the fact they're usually not very good.

However, while I was sorting out some of my old posts at The Lifeline, I came across one I wrote in June 2002 (yikes, was it that long ago!??). It has some relevance to my last post, so I thought I'd put it up here. Don't worry, I won't do that often.

Original is here.

Stronghold

So we create our walls
This makes us safe.
Safe from what?
Who thinks lost love
Hurts more than loneliness?

So we pull down our walls
This seems a risk.
Risk of what?
Who thinks the risk of pain
Is worse than lost opportunities?

Walls don't just protect us.
They bind us.
Pain isn't just negative.
Trevail brings forth the babe.
Pain induces strength.
If you've the courage to face it.


Bleh. I must be insane.

posted by Heather @ 9:19 am