Purge

Often times I find myself in my head alone for far too long. Thinking thinking thinking. "I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in and stops my mind from wondering where it will gooooooooo-oh". People tell me that I think too much.  Since when did thinking too much become a character defect? I would have to say that there are much more heinous defects than that. For instance what about the lack of thinking at ALL?   

BLIP there goes my train of thought

It has been quite some time since I have put thought to this two dimensional screen. Oh my audience of one or perhaps even just my own self no audience, none. (?) I was cleaning out a closet. Yes, THAT closet.  That the one with the skeletons in it. I came across a journal that must have been at least eleven years old. I took the plunges of dread and opened it. I recalled what I was going though in 2001, I was afraid of what  I would find. The few entries that I discovered there were not so bad I even found a few poems, a few dreams that i took the time to write down after I had had them, my entries when I went to visit California to see my father and my daughter and what I was most relieved to find was some true observations about life that I hold today.  Without going way into it, I was in the middle of starting over once again at age 31. Yep, I really am that chronological age, but never that old in my heart and soul.

 Purge and Surge  written 10/27/03

Words be a master 

allow me to be heard

speak a little faster

 an unspoken word

Drifting freely through the point

spreading color upon the page

bleeding bleeding the rolling pen

thought unleashes grab hold of language

Flowing smoothly 

no pauses just rave

The blue ink swells like water

gliding or sailing waiting for the next wave.

©2012 Molly Atkinson Hauk

I leave you with a picture by Larry Torro...End of entry . Bye bye love.