4.20.05 Naivete
The humidity screams spring to me, as my lungs inhale, bringing in moistened air past my fried lungs from too many menthol cigarettes. I can't help but flare my nostrils and delve into that olfactory bliss. Worms, possible rain, diesel fuel (from the truck stop where I work), oil, over-cooked meat. Some-kinda heaven, I think. Odors that remind me of nature and technology intermingling together to create their own unique fragrance. Perfection.
I look toward the sky and spot the overcast morning. Gray-blue, and damn it's so beautiful. It's days like today that make my mind scream poetry at me until I wish to puke out the words to anyone who will listen to me speak. It's an almost violent urge that I cannot seem to control. On the way home from work, I turn off the radio and just organize a few lines of gibberish in my conscious mind, hoping to remember them for when I get home and can type them up. This happens to me often; so often that curse myself for not stopping along side the road to write down what I have composed. So many great lines lost to the short-term memory blues. I have to laugh at my own antics, as I question myself and my silly urges to be heard. Pathetic, I sometimes think, I am so pathetic.
But, I can't stop. I just can't. I've tried. It's my drug. My addiction. My salvation. My long-term affair, and my long-lost love. What a weird, almost dysfunctional relationship I have with my writing. I love it, I hate it; I am proud of it, yet I think I am not good enough at it to deserve any praise. I try to make myself stop, but here I am, yet again, writing. Odd, is it not?
So, here's a little ditty that I came up with, unpolished, unedited. Most likely crap; but, the feeling of naivete was too close to ignore.
Naivete
By Meagan Blanchard
4.20.05
I am gutless
And a first class sissy.
But, It's okay, Mom,
The Real World doesn't stand a
Chance against my aplomb.
They'll be too stunned by
My wit, spry nature
And cleverness;
To take advantage of
This young governess!
I'll show them all
What it means to
Have personality,
Completely shocking
Them into my personal reality.
Playing with puppy dogs
While having a nice picnic;
Taking walks around the lake,
I'll even bake them all
Their favorite Birthday cake.
Now, Mom, don't you worry
I'll be okay
Life can't be nearly as bad as you say
I look toward the sky and spot the overcast morning. Gray-blue, and damn it's so beautiful. It's days like today that make my mind scream poetry at me until I wish to puke out the words to anyone who will listen to me speak. It's an almost violent urge that I cannot seem to control. On the way home from work, I turn off the radio and just organize a few lines of gibberish in my conscious mind, hoping to remember them for when I get home and can type them up. This happens to me often; so often that curse myself for not stopping along side the road to write down what I have composed. So many great lines lost to the short-term memory blues. I have to laugh at my own antics, as I question myself and my silly urges to be heard. Pathetic, I sometimes think, I am so pathetic.
But, I can't stop. I just can't. I've tried. It's my drug. My addiction. My salvation. My long-term affair, and my long-lost love. What a weird, almost dysfunctional relationship I have with my writing. I love it, I hate it; I am proud of it, yet I think I am not good enough at it to deserve any praise. I try to make myself stop, but here I am, yet again, writing. Odd, is it not?
So, here's a little ditty that I came up with, unpolished, unedited. Most likely crap; but, the feeling of naivete was too close to ignore.
Naivete
By Meagan Blanchard
4.20.05
I am gutless
And a first class sissy.
But, It's okay, Mom,
The Real World doesn't stand a
Chance against my aplomb.
They'll be too stunned by
My wit, spry nature
And cleverness;
To take advantage of
This young governess!
I'll show them all
What it means to
Have personality,
Completely shocking
Them into my personal reality.
Playing with puppy dogs
While having a nice picnic;
Taking walks around the lake,
I'll even bake them all
Their favorite Birthday cake.
Now, Mom, don't you worry
I'll be okay
Life can't be nearly as bad as you say
posted by Mighty Meagan | 4/20/2005 12:30:00 PM
6 Comments:
You're very "vocabulatory" (my own word; only $1 per use if you wish). "Lexiconical" is another. And I LOVE the smell of possible rain. It is my favorite smell. Then vanilla.
I know exactly what you mean about losing verses to the "short-term memory blues". The other day I was playing with my dogs, wide eyed spouting silly things at them when it slowly transformed into some abstract piece... And now all I can remember about it is "What about the revelations of the tortured few?" I bring a notepad with me everywhere I go and anytime I'm not actively engaged in something I'm writing. It's a heavy burden; the weight of all these words gallivanting raucously about in my head.
Well I think you definitely deserve praise. I enjoy reading your words. Keep writing.
I enjoyed the poem you wrote. I imagine you spinning in a circle gleefully while your stern eyed mother looks on.
Anywho thanks for the comments on my blog! I appreciate it. Keep writing!
Peace,
Ricky D
Thank you for the compliment on my vocabulary, I'll be sure to bill myself if I ever use your copyrighted word 'vacobulatory'
;) ooooo lexiconical... that's too fun. (So, I guess I owe two dollars now...I best be careful or I shall go broke!)
Rain definately ranks up there as my favorite smell, then I think it would be the way a man smells after sweating hard. (I think it's the phermones.) *shrugs* Can't seem to help myself; and, I have to say, there is a scent I tentavitly call "Stripper", this could be any stripper anywhere, it's as if they have their own unique scent. Sensually Stripper. LOL So, yeah, that would be my third favorite.
God, I HATE that, you have something great, something groud-breakingly abstract, but so excellent you know that if you can just wait and write it down, it will be the best you've ever written. Invairably, that is of course when you are busy, occupied, don't have paper, happen to be driving on the interstate, e.t.c. Very frustrating.
Thank you for the praise =) I am happy that my words are enjoyable to you.
Thanks for commenting!
Jeremy aplomb is:
Definitions of aplomb:
noun: great coolness and composure under strain
=)
LMAO
Invasion of the Intellectuals on the next Oprah!
What about if it was raining sweaty stripping men? Would that be olfactory overload for you? Just curious in case I ever come upon the ability to put you in such a situation. If you should enjoy it great. If you should have a seizure and die; not so good. Anywho, keep writing.
Peace,
Ricky D
Interesting question Ricky, and I don't have a definate answer.
Most likely if it were raining strippers, or just raining sweaty men, I would like it. But, raining sweaty male strippers would probably be too much for me. I don't think I would have a stroke,(I am not that old) but it is possible that I would go into sensory overload, and faint dead away.
So, if you are ever in the position do be sweaty, raining from the sky while dressed like a stripper, near me, I would suggest that you have the smelling salts handy. That is of course, if you wish for me to be revived.
Sometimes, the silent female is the better female.
*Looks around and shrugs*
Meagan
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