My sister decided that to take and post a photograph every day.
It seemed like a good way to force...self-encourage creativity. But I don't take photographs.
This blog will be my daily[ish] writings. Some days I may write poems, some days I'll write phrases or sentences. Since most of what I post here will probably fall into some category of poetry, I must quote Paul Valery, as he accurately stated that, "A poem is never finished, only abandoned." So everything here is a work in progress.
Into never having existed,
Mix it with the dust of my bones
And blow them off into a wind
That no one remembers.
We can both console
Our lonely selves in loss.
Only the tiniest grin forms
At the old corners of my granite lips,
Thinking that at least,
We’ve done it to each other.
I got inspiration for this poem from a poem by Lolamouse and her poem Waiting for Petrichor. It's a very good angry poem that can't seem to be angry any more. What happens when anger is all you have? Or not anger, but just a need to fight? I've been digging some angry poems lately! Oh, the title and the picture are from Cold War ideals, namely the fantastic notion of Mutual Assured Destruction, which I guess did, maybe kinda work-since we're not destroyed yet.