Last night I was restlessly insomniatic and found myself outside looking skyward into the great web of the Poetisphere. There, like a great connect-the-dots puzzle were all kinds of writing. 1000 black lines sweeping from one cluster of dark sparks to the next, and I wondered, with all the time I waste stomping through mudpuddles in the deafness of pre-dawn, if perhaps I shouldn't spend a few quiet moments contemplating this Glittering Muse above.
I searched there then, for a life, unscrambled, but was lost instead in a spiritual struggle, embodied by silent songs to a midnight sky, convinced that all I'd accomplished was to have become a sappy chick, searching for the right combination of contraptions beyond my own making on which to blame it all.
So, with pen in hand, I beat out a blue tattoo, my cadent rhythm of netinous music for the absent audience in this Moontown cafe. I found an elicit beauty there in the scribblings and flawed melodies recorded only in a tattered spiral notebook. It's not much, but it's me, a screaming she weevil with no answers to proclaim - following the shadowed trail left by the passing of strong women and whiskey that whispered warnings against my hope that something sublime could find me here, in the after effects of an English August that has served no purpose.
I pray that I will, just once, create complete and utter poetry, but knowing myself and being aware of my abstract tendencies, I expect something less wonderful and more simple, like waitress poems composed while reveling in joyful cliches, like legwarmers and too much hairspray. I realize now, despite my acceptance of life as it comes, I'll never be this century's romantic notion, I will never be found irresistible while writing poetry in the afternoon.
I am left only with the hope that like Chanticleer, I will survive a second playing of this cruel ruse that threatens to break me in the sly maw of my universe.
I started this link fest of an entry a week or so ago, thinking it would be amusing to see how many blog titles I could pull together to create something somewhat coherent. It has spent several days now as a draft. I couldn't concentrate on it - but tonight I needed to do 'something else' if you know what I mean, so here it is. It lacks the coherency and cohesion I'd hoped to come up with - it doesn't say much at all really, but it was an effective distraction.