Sunday, December 27, 2009

Stuff

It's actually pretty nice to be home. I mean, I miss my Champlain people a wicked lot, but it's just really relaxing here. It's nice not to have to do anything. So, I've just been hanging out and writing. I actually got on a wicked roll last night and wrote about seven pages in two hours. (Okay, for most people that might be slow, but I'm special and for me, that's fast :p) I'm not saying what it's about yet, though... not yet.
Anyway, I feel like I should actually post something of substance. Sooo I'll post a poem I wrote a while (and by 'while,' I mean like months... it's actually kinda wicked old. From, like, last April or something) ago...


The Sun


The Sun sees a lot during the day,
when he’s on top and gleaming
white fire, when he’s the one with power

(except for when the clouds try to cover him with their smoke.
Oh my God, he often thought,
he doesn’t consider himself particularly violent, but he’d kill them if he could.)

When everything is bright, he
sees people moving
quickly
slowly
laughing
silent
talking
lying.
It’s interesting, but so
busy.
And, really, he’s busy, too,
trying to keep the warm places warm and the cold places cold.

When he starts to fall,
he can lean back and
watch
his little world as
vibrant pink and sherbet ribbons chase away the blue of the sky.
He can watch people be people,
running in the forests of the grass
making footprints in the sand like glaciers
laughing
joking
dancing
sitting
eating
watching him right back.

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