I was supposed to write tonight. I wasted the evening. We got to Oryx, though, so I’m happy for that. The publisher has let me know they received everything, but no idea the current time table. I feel thin. It’s like walking through smoke, and knowing there’s a cliff out there, but there’s also something good. But I have no idea what the good thing is.
Alright, I’m feeling it. In honor of Christine getting her new books out in a physical format (her series of fairy tale remakes), I’m doing poetry poker, which she created for her English class.
Deck is shuffled. I do like adding an extra layer of difficulty. I have to use the cards in the order they are drawn. So here we go.
There is a possibility I will find a use for these words. Strained especially will have a place in the center ring. Did I mention the deck is The Carnival at Omega Five? While I’m not entirely sure on the omega five (I believe a sci fi reference), a carnival I can most certainly do. Especially after reading Gaslight Carnival. I most certainly suggest you purchase your own copy to add to your purview.
Anyway, my words! Drum roll, please, for I’m sure you cannot read them in the photo to the left. The difficulty to discern is due to my faulty camera. I kid.
Strain, almost, lights, tune, and glitter. I shall put them in bold so you may call me out, and they must be in the order which I have just stated.
Without further ado….
Poker Poetry 9/24/2015
Strain upon the ropes as they unravel
With daring acrobats almost falling to doom
But talented gymnasts reach across chasms,
Pooling up coworkers from certain doom.
The lights are bright on the stages, so much
Going on all at once. With elephants and tigers,
With clowns and flame breathers, there is always
Such a view. It is the carnival, after all.
A man in the corner rotates a roller which plucks
Out an automated tune. Just as his musical talent,
The rest of the show is an illusion. To thrill, to scare,
To make unprepared, glitter used to obscure the truth.
Meh. Not my finest work. I’m exhausted. I felt massively loquacious. I wish I was more alert and could write. I would make a mean Lovecraft story at this hour and in this state, with goblins and ghosts and Cthulhu. But I am tired. I am tired physically, mentally, and emotionally. Oddly spiritually is in a pretty good place. Plenty of affirming actions where that’s concerned.
Where in darkness do we tread when we reach for the unknown? We put a blindfold on so we can’t see the lamp that would tell us what it holds. We keep the eyes covered so good or bad we cannot discover, for we yearn for the good, yet we fear for the bad, and we would rather have gleeful phantoms than gloom.
(See, there we go. That was much better.)
...like butta' on your toast!
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