Finally getting settled in the new city, and things are going well. Writing is still taking a back-seat to finding a job, but today I broke the silence and started scribbling down some writing exercises over breakfast at McDonalds (inside Walmart, no less - take THAT Starbucks.)
I'm hoping to get around to visit people's blogs and check out some stories etc, which will probably be the extent of my engagement for a little while. But I will be writing again- it's too much of me to not do it for long.
In the meantime, and for your general amusement, I found an old journal of mine while I was unpacking, that had some early scribblings.
Here's a poem-type-thing that is ridiculous, totally overwrought, and enormous fun, that I actually presented live to a room full of people back in my days as an actor. Enjoy!
Requiem for the Discarded Sock Puppet I Saw in the Train Station Stairway
Your cold, dead, crayola eyes stared back at me.
Never more would they stir,
Dancing, flickering, alive.
Your jaw that was a thumb
is now a memory,
Your inky blue nose will no longer
sniff and incite giggles.
For you, my cotton/poly friend, will know
no more days of amusement.
Your fate lies in having your
Crumpled, grey, footprinted body
Swept away in a mound of cigarette butts and coffee cups.
Your life, though brief,
Was one of innocence.
That you existed at all speaks of intense goodness.
Where you a child's favourite toy?
A trifle amongst lovers?
Maybe you gave body to an insane man's voices.
Maybe in the next cycle, you will become a favourite sweater.
However you lived your life,
You did no wrong.
You were merely the victim
Of a stark, cruel world.
Nevermore will you be dryer-fresh.
Nevermore shall you cling mischievously to a silk shirt.
Nevermore to hear the giggles of those you entertained.
This morning, I found another sock.
Dead of a broken heart
In my dryer.
It is for you, and for all other missing, once-loved socks,
That I lay him here to rest.
Though he be interred,
And you remain,
Unreachable. A corpse in the public realm,
I can only hope that your two souls will combine.
In the Elysian fields of fabric softener.
Requiescat en pace.
~~February 12, 1999
(P.S. when I performed this, I actually had a sock puppet with me that I put lovingly into a shoebox at the end.)