Scribbles: Unfinished Business

With the year 2012 fast approaching its conclusion, I think the moment calls for a little unfinished business.  Some people have resolutions.  I have them too, but I'm only going to share one with you now: write more.  A lot more.

Here's some poem-type stuff I found in my binder, most of it unfinished until I took the time to give them the tender loving completion they deserve.  Now that they're out of the way, I have even less excuse to put off writing more new things.  Onward, 2013!

Success

Another day and month
I search without success;
but there,
a woman drifting through the air
and something makes my heart grow fonder,
something makes my heart respond
with hammer blows on beaten bells,
a hole inside me fills and swells
with satisfaction now,
a measure of success.

Woad

I paint with woad because it's older,
indigo is much too blue;
I'd drown in all its saturation,
older dyes will surely do.

I paint my face and stain my clothes
because it's as I've always done,
and nothing drives me harder
than traditions I've begun.

I'd brush away the new beginnings
and delay the modern trends,
but I must regret in silence
when traditions have to end.

Please Stay Away

You haven't aged a moment:
go away, go away.
I would like you to stay for an hour,
look me deep inside my eyes
and say your peace, and
go away, go away;
please stay where I can see you,
out of reach,
go away.

A Toxic Situation

No one wants to hear you whisper,
they're all hear to watch you scream at me;
they want to hear it nice and loud.

They came to see a show, but
I don't think you want to give one,
I don't think you want a single thing
except to make me fight with you.

I'm sick of how you bother me for nothing;
you want nothing?  I'll be happy to oblige.

Cold and Cracking

I always wind up crazy
when my lover's not around
because I don't know what I'd do if she were here.

I'll freeze to death in ages
without sunlight on my skin,
just a lonely ray of sun to bring her near.

To You

To one who laughs and rhymes with love and sound,
who echoes in the warmth of every night
like music in the stillness all around,
her melody a banner waving bright,

To lightning in the quiet of the morning,
to one who sees with fresh and gentle eyes
the worth and me and all we have to offer,
sweet hellos and bittersweet goodbyes,

To you, my love, I'm finally coming home.

__________

...

OK, they may not all be my best work.  But some of them are pretty good.

Now, On to the future!