A little dose of poetry

She flies, she flows,

bleeding rhythm, spilling prose…

I’ve got this itch lately, this restless sadness that won’t go away. I feel like a hamster in a wheel, running round and round, making the same steps over and over, not going anywhere, and not even burning any calories. I mean, for all that running the little creatures do, you’d expect a six pack under the ball of fur, yes?

I’m supposed to be writing poetry. The idea is that since I rant like a needle on a scratch [think turntables and LPs], I need to put my rants in verse. If I can find five different ways to phrase the same whine, I could actually be onto something. So…

She flies, she flows,

bleeding rhythm, spilling prose…

So far, that’s all I’ve got. Meh.

I should be moving soon, to somewhere a little more purple. I’ve got the site all scoped out, I’m just having my house-guy tweak the furniture and stuff. It’s kind of scary, a bold move, like chopping off my hair, one of those transition things. I’m not even sure why I’m doing it except that I want to start again, return to basics, yank off the safety net and see if I can catch any fish. I’m kind of hungry for protein.

God, I hope I know what I’m doing…

β™« Steven Curtis Chapman β™« Diving In β™«

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2 Responses

  1. I’m sure your sad itch will pass. All the best with the transition. πŸ™‚

  2. We all get that itch sometimes. hope you get over it quicker n it doesn’t consume you. You’ll b over the bridge sooner than you think πŸ™‚

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