the storm you are
May. 28th, 2003 12:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaneramosthis vast well
like a sky of storms
brewing cauldron of thought
images beyond the tip of my eyes
a maelstrom churning
dark clouds burning
open your heart to the lightning rage
wind and flames pour through
oceans of salt tears
volcanoes of laughter
inner fire
will remake the face of creation
if you unleash it
I'm still caught in a maelstrom of my own making. I went to bed at 12:00. I got up at 12:01.
This writing, this thing, this predator has caught hold of me. Today, besides beginning to reread Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, I perused more old journal entries. Trying to piece together the fragments of what I want to say. Reading from three years ago, a complicated time. I was dating different guys, unable to commit anything to anyone, restless in a different way than now.
The flow of energy keeps rolling around in my head. This demon project will not allow me to sleep until I pay it some tribute. So I have extracted this poem out of my notebook entry for Dec. 20, 2000. Sometimes my handwritten journal breaks into these bursts of poetic madness.
Now maybe I can settle down. I'm starting back to the gym tomorrow morning. First time since October. Craig will pick me up at 9.
like a sky of storms
brewing cauldron of thought
images beyond the tip of my eyes
a maelstrom churning
dark clouds burning
open your heart to the lightning rage
wind and flames pour through
oceans of salt tears
volcanoes of laughter
inner fire
will remake the face of creation
if you unleash it
I'm still caught in a maelstrom of my own making. I went to bed at 12:00. I got up at 12:01.
This writing, this thing, this predator has caught hold of me. Today, besides beginning to reread Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, I perused more old journal entries. Trying to piece together the fragments of what I want to say. Reading from three years ago, a complicated time. I was dating different guys, unable to commit anything to anyone, restless in a different way than now.
The flow of energy keeps rolling around in my head. This demon project will not allow me to sleep until I pay it some tribute. So I have extracted this poem out of my notebook entry for Dec. 20, 2000. Sometimes my handwritten journal breaks into these bursts of poetic madness.
Now maybe I can settle down. I'm starting back to the gym tomorrow morning. First time since October. Craig will pick me up at 9.
