I wish to create something beautiful,
meaningful.
I would scream
and hope someone hears it,
feels it.
I wish that I could write,
speak.
I would sing
and the melody would touch someone,
heal someone.
I wish nothing less than to escape,
flee.
I would live
and not be held by mundane concerns,
petty concerns.
I wish to scorn daily monotony,
routine.
I would think
and not be restrained within myself,
by myself.
A momentary hit,
A temporary "fix",
Does nothing for this fixation.
A spatter of words,
A stanza of "poetry",
Does nothing to help the poet.
A confessed feeling,
A quick "I love you",
Does nothing to satisfy love.
Tiny ember
Let me tend,
Let me feed,
Won't you rise?
Tiny ember
Glow warmer,
Glow softer,
Feel, don't show.
Tiny ember
Sate my soul,
Scold my fear,
Comfort me.
Liquid ember
Clear my mind,
Wash my heart,
Blur the world.
Such beautiful days
As those blessed upon us.
Such wonderful times
As those we dared to live.
Back when naivety
Wasn't part of our vocabulary.
In the days we lived to dream.
Mornings spent in the sun
With friends in idle.
Each one of us knowing,
Perhaps not how,
That we would be great.
Jokes would abound
And laughter would follow.
Freedom was but a word;
We lived the concept.
Oh how things have changed
Since those days of joy.
Blindly we let it slip away.
Those shining rays of purities
And hopes
Were replaced by sinking ideas.
So raw,
Such wondrous dreams and lives, here
Were lost.
Stagnant meanderers succumb
to time
Scream If You Love Me - Part 2 by Srouc, literature
Literature
Scream If You Love Me - Part 2
So here I am, hanging on for dear life, a ravenous freak of nature crooning for my blood and drooling on me from above, a thousand more below.
One might consider this a tricky situation.
Perhaps we should have known better than to keep a "live" one in our midst, but who really plans for circumstances such as this? Mr. Demolitions is down there in the crowd below, and I'm reasonably confident he's still clutching the detonator that was to be my ticket out of here.
Maybe I'll get lucky and one of them will set it off.
...
No such luck..
My composure broke as a moan turned to a scream. I screamed until I was sure the fuckers were listening
I wish to create something beautiful,
meaningful.
I would scream
and hope someone hears it,
feels it.
I wish that I could write,
speak.
I would sing
and the melody would touch someone,
heal someone.
I wish nothing less than to escape,
flee.
I would live
and not be held by mundane concerns,
petty concerns.
I wish to scorn daily monotony,
routine.
I would think
and not be restrained within myself,
by myself.
A momentary hit,
A temporary "fix",
Does nothing for this fixation.
A spatter of words,
A stanza of "poetry",
Does nothing to help the poet.
A confessed feeling,
A quick "I love you",
Does nothing to satisfy love.
Tiny ember
Let me tend,
Let me feed,
Won't you rise?
Tiny ember
Glow warmer,
Glow softer,
Feel, don't show.
Tiny ember
Sate my soul,
Scold my fear,
Comfort me.
Liquid ember
Clear my mind,
Wash my heart,
Blur the world.
Such beautiful days
As those blessed upon us.
Such wonderful times
As those we dared to live.
Back when naivety
Wasn't part of our vocabulary.
In the days we lived to dream.
Mornings spent in the sun
With friends in idle.
Each one of us knowing,
Perhaps not how,
That we would be great.
Jokes would abound
And laughter would follow.
Freedom was but a word;
We lived the concept.
Oh how things have changed
Since those days of joy.
Blindly we let it slip away.
Those shining rays of purities
And hopes
Were replaced by sinking ideas.
So raw,
Such wondrous dreams and lives, here
Were lost.
Stagnant meanderers succumb
to time
I just stood there, in my classy, warm fur boots and watched her explain herself to me like there was nothing noteworthy about what she was saying. The autumn air wrapped itself around me like a familiar serpent servant, chilling me at the exact cliché moment. Spending just a moment to take her in, the cherry red overcoat that went right down to kiss the ground with its finely trimmed velvet lips. The lustrous baubles that hung around her wrists - they used to say that wrists were once the most alluring part of a woman, and I guess this was her shield against that. And her hair, that raven-black that always failed to sit straight and do what
So, on the off chance that someone still looks at this thing, a few updates:
- I now live in Melbourne
- I'm studying a Bachelor of Arts at Monash University
- I'm working at a quaint little theatre restaurant called Dracula's
- I'm currently looking at finding a home that isn't my ex-girlfriend's cousin's house or my van
- Life is generally pretty freaking awesome
Beyond all this, I hope to get some writing up here soon. It's just a matter of coming up with something that I think people will care about.
Welp, I'm back in Townsville.
I'm about two months into a library traineeship.
Although, if you know me well enough to read this you probably know this already.
- Sean
Since last word I have moved to Brisbane.. stayed there about a month and came back again. I'm considering elsewhere.
I still write every so often. Most of it was absolute rubbish that was more about venting than trying to create something worthwhile. You may notice something new in that dilapidated gallery over on the right.
I swear, the cobwebs are starting to show and it's about time I archive much of it. It feels like another version of myself that created what lies there.
I've taken up drawing. More specifically I've been playing with pastels (along with charcoal) and I'm enjoying the mess thoroughly :) Give it a bit of time and I mig