On Spiritos - A Poetic Freewrite: 31 July, 2006
A none too lucid rambling of my subconscious, from a long, long time ago. NRJ-TSR. Enjoy!
. . .
I’ve found that you do not always have to be good,
Walking a hundred miles in an unforgiving desert, repenting.
You do not always need to be the best, the perfect word, the perfect turn of phrase;
The inspiration for someone else not living, not loving, repenting.
Spiritos, you need. Pen, paper. Imagination.
Writing what hurts as long as you live, writing what’s good, discovering.
You do not need to write what they tell you to write, halfway to a worthless ideal and already on its downside.
The inspiration that they never could find, that they used up long ago, discovering.
I see random harmony, pale moths asleep on clouds,
Dreams that I've had, faces I can’t place but vaguely remember loving.
A rainy night and my muse drops by for tea, tells me a story and expects me to write it down.
And I write every word, debating, hating, loving.
Life goes on, after all.
Takes your inspiration with it, like a wild and lovely phantom wind, flowing.
Spiritos, images, white roses against a stormy sky, fish in a river, a vase full of your tears.
Wild geese fly by your window at night, the un-noted inspiration, flowing.
I’ve found that sometimes you can close your eyes,
Pretend that certain music is yours alone, written for you, singing.
You can see yourself far away someday; wind, trees and a view of the stars.
Out there in the snow by yourself, singing.
And it’s true that you do not always have to be good,
Just to stay caring, writing, loving.
Putting your imagination down, thick and bold like calligraphic paint on the page,
And getting a satisfied sigh, a tip of a hat... to get up and go on loving.
For Kay, who recently discovered and was inspired by Tchaikovsky.
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I don't if I can possibly help it - it usually comes out terrible, gets tangled up in metaphor and ends up with no discernible subject. I'm no poet; just a writer with too much time on her hands.
I'm glad you liked it, Snoink, thank you. ^_^
Aw... this is pretty stuff! I never realized you wrote poetry before. ^_^;;
Hah, I always need it. ^_^
I did, indeed.
And once again, I am in love with this poem.
Good luck! (not that you need it, hehe)
*gasp* You didn't read my old signature did you?
I'm glad you liked it - thanks very much, Jess. ^_^
I loved this poem. It sounds Russian. =) But really, I loved it!
Ah, I find it difficult to write proper poetry. I get too angsty. And that's what blogs are for, no? I won't subject the rest of you to it on the forums, haha.
Merci, Wiggy.
See nothing wrong. Great job Dreamy! I absolutely loved it! You should seriously do more poetry!
Aw, Niamh... ^_^
Thank you so much. You've just made my day.
I loved this. It was so simple and earnest, but felt like something any writer could relate to. As I read, I kept choosing favorite parts, but there were too many. I just think the whole thing is great. Don't fix anything--it doesn't need it.
Thanks Rei. ^_^
(Yes indeed, inspired rambling... better than inane rambling, but equally rambly.)
There's not much I can say about this, since it was just some inspired rambling. It was enjoyable to read, though. It had a nice feel to it.
Why, thank you!
I liked this too. It's kind of... unpolished, and I mean that in the best possible way. It doesn't need to be amazingly poetical because it's so heartfelt and true. And beautifully written as well. The more I read this the better I like it. Very nice job.
I see random harmony, gossamer butterflies asleep on clouds,
Dreams that I had, faces I can’t place but vaguely remember, loving.
A rainy night and my muse drops by for tea, tells me a story and expects me to write it down.
And I write every word, debating, hating, loving.
My favorite part. Thanks for posting.
I see random harmony in your poetry. I really like this piece. Something about the form makes it seem like it should be read aloud in a tiny cafe somewhere. Maybe with bongos? Yeah.