To be able to create, you need to rest after a period of being restless and awfully idiotic. I have been restless (and awfully idiotic) for quite some time, and have ‘created’ some forgettable written ‘things’. While I wait for the period of rest to rain on me, I want to maintain a feeling of being creative. Since I am afraid it’ll all be, yes, forgettable, I’ll just copy and paste from the book I published recently (which, incidentally, has sold more than 10 copies! Hardly forgettable, eh? WooHoo!)
Eleven Etherees for you. Eleven emotions.
Up it comes,
And twinkles bright.
Swishes and courses,
Curls around every wisp
In me. Bells tinkle, tink, tink.
Now deeper and yet all around,
It wafts round me, the gentle old friend.
Oh, this delightful light, it becomes me.
My weak soul.
I fall, and fall.
Reach hells I knew not.
Flames claim me, mere tinder.
‘Twas not called to cause hurt,
But it has. Here, there and everywhere.
Those worried looks, these trembling sinews;
Fires ablaze, poisons stew. Where is life, pray?
“Twill twice over.
Rush life in me.
It does, too. And more.
Skies and Earth merge afar,
Days flow into nights close here.
All’s the same, yet wonderfully new.
Picks me up and sends me adrift, reined.
Drops me. Only to prop me again. Reined. Filled.
Then, it stays. Rigid.
I play its tiring game.
Seeking, buckling, pining, too.
Heart feels empty, mind so broken.
It’s tapping the loud, loud hollowness
With such indefatigability.
It makes me do
This, and much, much more.
Rides on my ignorance,
Gallops me to deserts grey.
Desolate plains, troughs and mounds meet me
As I trample this ground shivering ‘neath.
Though ‘tis dark.
Even as fog fades all.
I laugh as if sky’s blue,
And so, I become the light.
Dips me in sweet liqueur, it does.
Oh, what fun! Trouble’s all gone now,
I can be again, live again! Onward!
But it bleeds not,
No blood’s left in me.
It’s taken hold, this claw.
It pinches, pierces deep, deep.
World’s awash with this stickered smell;
Bloodlessness, such tiresome bloodlessness.
Nothing in me, I lean on falsity.
Whoosh, float, sail
Through marvellous fluff.
Eyes mirror the light
I sense gushing in me.
So many questions, such a lure.
I marvel, gaze at things hidden,
It’s lent me knowing eyes, this journey.
All’s bright, I see so well of a sudden.
Dreams, and live there.
How heavy is their weight!
Those departed, heavy dreams.
I see healthy trees from windows,
But the panes are built of tough stone.
To break them is painful, really. Such pain.
‘Haps I’ll stay in here, and ‘twill go? The pain?
On rooted tree.
It’s a beginning.
And another new end.
Sense still earth, yet know ‘tis not.
I can fly yet dive, fish treasures.
Seek what? All that is here is out there.
Bells? There’s no tolling. The heart beats it all.
Compelled my Me.
Ere I begin jaunts,
I choose the best transport.
Mirrors here, there; I see Me.
Give me love, give me more and more.
Build me a palanquin, all mine. Mine!
‘Tis not just my joy, but yours, too, I want.
*Yes, I know it’s not strictly an emotion. But I am using my artistic license. So there.