People who play the roles of terrible, despicable, venal villains on TV or the movies, have to have a good sense of humor, right?
I fear the fading of words
And the diminishing of my light.
This writing journey of stops and starts.
There was a bright flare in the beginning –
Now I face the slow hard climb back,
Which is almost slipping.
What do I hold onto?
Thoughts dissolve into ether—
Of the mind, the soul, the web.
The contrariness of my writing spirit
Is partly to blame.
It crowds my mind with longings and ideas
Exactly when I have lots of other work.
Now that I’ve cleared space for it to blossom,
It’s off, cavorting with the fairies!
And so between me and my words
Me and my unwritten, massing, relentless stories—
Of years and aeons
And that one spark…
There is a road all writers must take—
Stark, terrifying, mystical, mystifying, exhilarating.
Lashed together precariously by inspiration’s evanescence,
That never coalesces for long.
This is a road all writers have travelled, but each alone.
And the loneliness is palpable,
An intolerable pressure!
Of being alone is this ocean of people…
Yet strangely, it is only in the self, alone,
That one can strive for mastery over words.
Strengthen the visions that only one can see.
Only the self, all by itself, has the deepest answers.
And the road gleams on…
Originally posted on Light Under Shadow:
On the Space-Highway car,
In a galaxy afar,
I met a girl with sparkling, swirling hair;
Through her heart, a gaping tear
And she asked me, “Where do you come from darlin’,
From where do you bring such pain?”
I pointed to a curved blue plain.
In the dark,
I pointed to a killing, burning plain.
From whence; everyday, everyday
Her heart would make a little more way
For the monsters to hide in.
For the monsters to dissolve,
Frightened at their own resolve.
And the girl’s eyes would tear
And the tear in her heart would despair.
–There was very little space left……..
And still, she said to me, “Darlin’ give ME your hurt,
Let me soothe your wrinkled soul;
On me it’ll take a smaller toll.
“Because, darlin’, I too am fled,
I left my world,
And all my selves.
I’m going again to find myself;
View original 88 more words
Head over to my author/editor website! :)
I’ve just put up an interview with the author’s of one of the most compelling books I have edited so far, Exit Point.
Here’s the Link:
Questions, comments and thoughts are most welcome! :)
first it rained in a grey glow
and the filigreed leaves of the tamarind tree
danced in happiness
then there was a hint of light atop luminous cloud banks
then there was – outright and audacious – the sun
and green and brown sang out in glory
with the drama of the sky stage as a fitting finale
I’ve just put up a blog post on the website and it would be great if you could give it a read:
It’s an exploration of what all these rules actually want you as the writer to do.
See you there! :)
a little respite from the rain
a little time to play and smile
even if grey cold returns
we can remember this glory in turns
Flower scented, warm, monsoon wind beckons.
Yesterday, the water turned heavy – like syrup…
Is it simply the quickening in me?
Or does the world indeed transform?
On a beautiful summer day, I took a morning walk and brought home ephemeral beauty captured in pixels and light.
And it is this light we celebrate today! (Along with the 4th birthday of this blog!! :))
Look how happy this flower is, on meeting the sun for the first time that day!
Stay bright… Shine on…