An Explanation, If You Please

I realize I haven't posted anything on here in a long time; there are several reasons for this.

One of them is that I've become rather more picky about when I let my writing out into the public. Along with this, I haven't really been doing much quality, completed work recently—as I've been spending my creative time more on music than writing. Maybe I've also gotten more self-conscious about my writing, I don't know.

The other reason for my lack of posting is the fact that I had, in my mind, restricted this blog to only creative writing—poetry and such. And while I haven't been making much finished creative writing, I do have a lot of more "traditional" blog material floating around in my brain. Several times I've had the urge to write an entry of that sort, but stopped myself because, "that's not what this blog is for."

Well, not anymore, I've decided! Henceforth, I am lifting my self-imposed restrictions! (let freedom and liberty reign! or something)

Don't worry (I'm sure you were), I'll still post any creative writing I happen to make and deem good enough for exposé.

Planted

Swirled and swept and cradled—
Little brown seed among
Rocks and violent eddies—
Shivering river foaming, flowing
Down, and around,
Carrying a tiny piece of life—
Like a mother, until
She sees at last the spot;
And slowly sinks the seed
Into the soft soil, its foot is a root—
Deeper, stronger, clinging
To the earth its stronghold,
Borrowing his stability while
Around the soft new body,
Sunlight replaces water
As the last strands of river retreat away,
Leaving a tree to stand
calm,
still.

Solitarity

Walls are easier and
Far less risky than
Doors can ever be.
Clay the face to
Play the part of
Desirability.

The Sinking of the Trade Ship Prosperous

Everything was going well —
  Nothing wrong could we foresee;
    Now we sink beneath the swell.

One week since we bade farewell,
  Fair winds blew us strong and free,
    Everything was going well

Warning none, but stricken bell
  To the tempest made its plea —
    Now we sink beneath the swell.

Spices, cloth, and gold to sell —
  Wealth giv'n to us by the sea —
    Everything was going well.

Traitor ocean, now our hell,
  Swallows cargo, rich debris,
    Now we sink beneath the swell.

Ev'ry hand now feels the knell —
  Fateful, solemn guaranty.
    Everything was going well,
      Now we sink beneath the swell.

The Difficult Journey

     I tread canyons unseen by the sun,
    My eyes have grown weary with strain
   My next foot-fall may fail for the ground is unseen,
  But stopping now carries no gain.

     I have no place to rest for the night,
    Some weeds and a rock for my bed.
   I can't tarry too long, for the hour is late—
  Too heavy the message unsaid.

     I am tired, unable to stand;
    My soul, it refuses to move,
   But a purpose runs through me, abiding and sure,
  And that strength, I am ready to prove.

        My eyes are fixed ahead—whatever
          Befalls me here, it doesn't matter.

Citrus Sinensis

An impenetrable carapace sheltering an invaluable cargo—
Glassy smooth and coarsely pocked.

Not quite glowing, but bright with unearthly sheen—
Small facade of a fusion reaction.

A product of a timeless, pervasive, and delicate mystery—
Singular droplet of crystalline life.

Chasing After The Wind

Was May (I believe) when all things froze anew—
For better or not. You see, we all grew
Accustomed to our place here; we thought—for decent enough reasons—
That nothing could stop. we saw it in the pattern of the seasons,
That rhythmic repetition which seemed to promise permanence.
Permanence, yes, but not—as we learned—for us.

It started innocently enough, people just need
To improve their position. But those who did succeed,
Who had the most to lose, became blind
to everything around them—even when the chill wind
was reshaping it all. There was no
Love, none you could see beneath the snow.

Greed was the catalyst—the thing that was able, in the end,
to bring a species to it's collective knees—that and
Fear. Greed made the land cold, but
Fear kept the sun forevermore tightly shut
away from the stony masses striving in vain
to warm ourselves from inside with our strain.