~I'm in a slump, both stories and poetry. The ink from my pen has dried and refuses to flow no more; a world in which creativity reigned in me has descended into a bleak era in which life consists of humdrum activities with humdrum people. The passion to rearrange familiar atoms into unfamiliar structures, in essence to take things people have heard of and create something artistic. There is nothing left now that the words have fled. Life has choked my muse, and, though I knew it to be inevitable, I long to turn back time...~
Chasing the white dragon, I forsake
principles long adhered to-
yin and yang,
black and white, I hang perpetually
in the balance, never fully right,
never fully wrong.
Consistent inconsistencies
rejected in favor of
brief, tantalizing euphoria,
a trip on the smoke-like tail.
I am a child in a candy store,
a penny to purchase sweets,
sweets to purchase
half an hour, buried in the toilet.
Chasing the white dragon, I have
learned that in everything
there is yin and yang.
