Archives for posts with tag: mazes

i should have plenty of muse these days. after all, i reached the holy grail! i chased that thing that i thought i needed and that would define the next chapter of my life. and i caught it. see, isn’t it gorgeous?

okay, now what?

i’ve written at least three “first posts of the new year” and haven’t published them. i haven’t published much of anything lately. probably won’t publish this. ha! and i haven’t been tweeting profound or comical #sixwords. haven’t been reading too many of the blogs i usually follow. i don’t think i’m depressed, just relatively uninspired. apathetic.

also in a way i feel like i’ve already written it. nothing seems new anymore. i think that’s the downside of knowledge & growth sometimes. unless the answers inspire more questions it seems almost pointless to come to any firm conclusions, at least from an artistic standpoint. and so i have to wonder if i’m just missing the new questions. am i ignoring them? have i forgotten how to listen?

submerged in a mire
obsessed, i sought every distraction…

i know expectations have stolen away some of the magic. expectations from others but mostly my own. i miss the anonymity of writing under pseudonym. i miss the fun and tragic necessity. now i find myself questioning the quality and interpretation of everything i write, so instead of posting i’m just putting them in “the vault.” if i even get that far.

so something has to change. i need new revelation. i need to write for me again. and i need to find that voice again. it’s too late to go back to writing anonymously, although that is very tempting. but that seems like a step backwards instead of forward. no, i think i need to continue my journey right here. i put my name on it so that i couldn’t run, and i won’t.

sorry, i don’t really have any optimistic & heartening words to start off 2012 with. i don’t have any beautiful dreams, tragic romance or painful humanity to paint for you today. and i might not for awhile.

i’m just a boy with an old raggedy leather-bound journal & a dull pencil. sometimes when i sit by the river i jot down words that bloom in my mind like mysterious seedlings, swept here by the wind, caught in a barely moist rocky cold place.

i hope it makes them feel pretty to find a home.

“hold on to everything you own that owns you too…”

by JTW
©2012 JTW “” All rights reserved.

some silence is a choice
some is a gift
some narrows the gap
some widens the rift

there are times when silence is mandatory
when we shouldn’t fight it
times for healing
though we try to hide it
at the worst of times
and just to spite it

we may understand what we see before us
but do we know why
do we just give up now
did we even try?

radio silence
or talk to push
if we extinguish the fire
will it spare the bush?

and then there are some things
that not even silence can silence
they just are
they just will
like the paint that chips
off an old windowsill

who knows what emerges
as the layers fall away
the best you can do
from day to day
is laugh at the ruin
love the decay

“cause i remember…”

by JTW
©2011 JTW “” All rights reserved.

once in awhile something comes along that is stronger than the sum of its parts – a hidden force driving a purpose that can’t be seen by our eyes, not from here anyway.

but from somewhere else, far enough away, the dots start to breathe life into a picture of us – a funny love story – strong & true.

released to go way down
deep inside my soul to feel
where come out the right lines
inked up red with heal

but it might not be this sunday
other stuff i have to do
no songs written
preparing me for you

in the past i could just listen
they would speak through me
call it taking the easy way
yeah, now i see
it may be

still it won’t be this sunday
with other stuff i have to do
but if no songs are written
i’ll mean nothing to you

i watch roadmaps in movies
i look ahead to where it’s going
can i harness the sail
and ride the wind that is blowing

once upon a rhyme
once upon a time
one flew over the cuckoo’s nest
one sentence placed right here
sentencing me to death

but it might not be this sunday
other stuff i have to do
unless you put me on the block
and let it slice through

then it wouldn’t be at my hand
that dreams are born & slain
should you deliver me, please
to love & pain

“it’s bloody to reach boldly…”

by JTW
©2011 JTW “” All rights reserved.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 84 other followers

%d bloggers like this: