Skip to main content

hent

By
who have i hented this life from?
surely it was not meant for me.
i was supposed to be traveling the world
and writing novels
and money was supposed to be irrelevent
at the same time it was to be in ready supply.
instead i struggle to connect the ends
instead i work on a sponge i must wring joy from
(when i dreamed of a place where joy overflowed its cup)
what choice do i have but to follow the path
though i realize i can create a fork with some work
i dare not step off the path into the brush
for i have too many responsibilities
and too many ropes tying me to the ground
i will wring the joy out of work
and soak in the joy of play
until that day when play and work are one.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ostrich

By
Too afraid to stand and fight; Too much pride to fly away. Cowardice: immobilize Egos lacking skill to play! Games of conflict can’t be played By those afraid to deal a hand. Flightless birds avoid their call Ostriching heads in the sand.  Thanks, Trifecta for the prompt, which requested an animal name be used as a verb. I figured I might as well ignore the dictionary and make my own...flightless birds have always intrigued me, anyhow.
7 comments
Read more

Out-of-Practice Practicing

By
i haven't decided yet what i'm gonna write here but that's the point i suppose -- to purge all the scum floating on the surface of my brain, to shake the dust off, whatever. today is valentine's day, which excites me because hearts are my favorite colors and sweets are on my list of favorite things. i like the idea of doing something important or meaningful but either nothing of import has happened on this day for me. which is not to say that none of my lovers made an effort, just that none of them made enough of an effort for me to notice. that doesn't mean i'm asking a lot, just asking for the right thing. like some people don't push any of my buttons at all, and some push some pretty nice ones but less and less over the years does he push the ones that i need. and fluff without substance is not enough to sustain me. i guess it was enough for him but there was something missing that grew more and more evident over the years. until i had to leave. blabbit...
Post a Comment
Read more