Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Before Dawn's Early Light

Good Morning. Up before the sunrise today. David was called to work for 5:30 a.m. That means the phone was ringing at 4:00. My life is going much better than it was. As you can see I’ve been noticeably absent from my blogs; except for a couple of posts, since January 8th. Noticeably absent from most of my life for over a month, almost 2 months. Before that it was hit and miss, with major crashes in between.

I’ve been writing in my journals. Over 20 pages of writing; all over the place from the darkest twisted regions of my psyche to the euphoric heights. A variable shit storm of words and emotions. I thought about going ahead and posting everything today. But I’m just not ready to put that out there just yet. Maybe I’ll publish it all in a book later. Or use it as inspiration to write a book or two. Whew. There’s enough there for a whole series of short stories.

One of my favorite authors is Edgar Allen Poe. As I look back over this past month’s journal entries I think of some of his stories. Wonderful way to express ones thoughts and inner tortures. This man was seriously pissed at some folks; he expresses his imaginings in a wonderfully macabre manner.

Perhaps my journal ravings will come to light,
But not tonight in this winter’s bite.

Write them out in poetry and prose.
Let your minds wander among the winter’s rose.

Is it a story or a memory froze?
Branches bare, Thorns to expose.

What does it say?
What’s hidden in the prose?

All in plain sight under your nose.
Thorns drenched in blood, winter’s rose.

Author: Mary E. Robbins

I remember literature teachers/professors expounding on what they thought various poets and writers meant by their poetry and/or stories. In truth, writing means something different to each person that reads it. What did the author/poet mean? The answer to that lies within the labyrinth that is the writer’s mind.

Twisted lanes and tangled branches
Amongst them all the wood sprite dances

Dance of light or dark do tell
Are we brink of heaven or hell

All is one and one the other
Father Brother Sister Mother

All do one and one the other
Tis the dance of one another

Do you know of which I write?
Can you see the darkest light?

Tell me now, what do I mean?
Can from my verse the answers glean?

Light of day and darkest night
Can you see the source of my minds fright?

Sweetest chocolate taste so pure
Bitter depths of poison sure

Can you show me now the cure
Can you show me motives pure

Tell me now, you say you know
Where and when does my mind go

Meander now down history’s lane
In amongst the thoughts so sane

Journey on, the travels fair
Jesters court, dance on air

Come along, do you dare
Come with me from here to there

Author: Mary E. Robbins

Life is a journey…there is no script.
Mary E. Robbins & the Hairballs

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