Last night I dreamed of Daniel Defoe
in hopes he’d have some words to show
to an aimless writer who knows naught where to go,
deserted by the muse like Mr. Crusoe.
Me thinks I’ll remain here upon this isle
and sit in silence for awhile to await the return of my message vial
with words of rescue from across the kyle.
There is no such thing as writer’s block.
It is a myth created by those who wish to cash in by making you feel inferior and by providing endless amounts of so-called expert advice to help you to overcome your fabricated problem.
When the inevitable winter comes,
remember that it is but a season.
Do not fight the cold or the call to hibernation.
Listen to the silence that comes when there are no words.
They will return to you like a throng of sparrows in the spring.
The modern warrior must fade away
like the ship of old didst sink
and enter no more into the fray
lest the whole race become extinct.
Mirror Mirror on the wall
Who’s the fairest of them all?
Mirror Mirror hanging there
Why the need to compare?
Mirror Mirror your truth I see
You reveal my inner beauty.
Mirror Mirror may I borrow you?
So others may see their true self too.
(Reflection from a study of the book of James)
E was the first to go
why I could say I don’t know
though it was plain to see
my respect did not apply to Everybody
M followed right behind
i decided it should be all Mine
a word i could call my own
i and My seemed so alone
the PATH began to disappear
overtaken by my fear
that a mile in your moccasins
might keep me with you until the end
then Y decided to go away too
what’s a lone letter supposed to do
i guess it joined the other Ys
i don’t know
i can no longer