Scraps and unused ends #1

Scraps and Unused Ends:

I write little things down often, smallish ideas or rhymes or whatever.  I thought I would post some things up here that I wrote and like, but that do not make a lot of sense to attempt to have published for whatever reason.  Sometimes things get in my head and refuse to leave unless I write them down, and it is worth it to me to take the time to attempt to capture them if for nothing but the momentary peace until something else jumps in and starts squawking for attention.  Most of this stuff is silly or stupid or just plain nonsense, but sometimes something cool comes out of it.  Since these things do not and will never have a home, I thought I would make a place for them here.  Its warm, and there's a fire.

I do not consider myself a poet by any means, but sometimes I write things that can only be described as poems.  So.

Ahem.

Rags and Wings

I am carrying the heaviest load and a friend arrives. 

I’ll help he says, I’ll get this end

We share the weight for a while trudging through the endless sand

Heavy he says

Not so much since you got here.  Thanks

Yeah he says simply.  I’m a friend.

Our footsteps trail behind us to the horizon

Ahead, endless dunes

Let’s rest a moment he says

We put the load down on the sand

Listen, he says, do you even need any of this?

I’ve been carrying it since forever, I need it

But we were born with wings, he says, We were meant to fly

He unfolds his wings, stretches under the white sun

You’ve got them too, you just forgot

And he’s right

They are there behind me, dirty and weak, folded up under my rags

You just have to leave all this behind he says

You just have to remember what it was like to fly he says

Watch

He jumps into the sky and it is beautiful. 

I stand and watch until he disappears into the sun

I shoulder my heavy burden, alone now,

Trudge through the endless sand

Underneath my rags, my wings hide, dirty and forgotten.

 ------

 I always like when a writer takes a moment to explain where that came from.  Neil Gaiman in particular does that for most of his shorter pieces and I always love it.

This is a little obvious, I know, but I was at work wishing I could just walk away from everything that I didn't like in my life, my uninspiring job and my unfulfilled dreams, and it seemed to me that tomorrow for me will be nearly exactly like today.  I remember the distinct thought arriving that we are not meant to do this, to sell our lives away doing things we dislike to grow older and die without ever knowing what we could be...  I texted my wife and she texted back and suddenly things didn't seem so heavy and dark.  She is a friend that helps share the weight of this life.  And so I took a moment to try and capture this.  It is not perfect, and may even be a little trite, but I like it. 

Anyway.

Feel free to comment and contact me via the usual methods.  I would love to know who you are.

Oh and if you are a writer on Twitter, make sure to check out the saints @LitRejections.  I have no idea who they are but I'm glad I ran across the account.  Just super encouraging and awesome.

Still Writing, 

RP