This weeks blog is a little self-reflection. I first posted this in the days I frequented MySpace. I hope the literary references and musical references won’t be too confusing.
I do hope some of you enjoy it and if you’ve read it before, I hope there is still something to enjoy again. 🙂
Next week will be something completely new!
Wishing you all a bright and blessed week ahead.
Whatever and Me.
Shelley never meant much to me.
Not as much as he should’ve done.
Too pre-occupied with irreverence,
With the Wilde
That captured a part of me
That had not yet language to speak.
So I played my guitar.
I scribbled, I scratched, I drew.
Threw myself “out there”
To crash back with a tome of an
On my lap.
I wanted a piano lesson.
I sang in spite of his begging me not to.
I fell on my face and cried
To look upon a question mark.
Reality or the Illusion?
My choice to make.
I lamented over a black clad Jesus.
Borrowed faces to call my own.
Wore everyone’s shoes without asking.
I left ‘Thankyou’ playing though quietly on the stereo.
I sat in front of a microphone with my own inferno’s encased.
I heard my voice.
I haven’t stopped to looked back.
I may never be Shelley.
My wit may never be Wilde.
Tennyson, long ago I left him behind.
Reaching a point of mindless abandon.
Where I’ll laugh really loud.
Within my vein of melancholy
Whatever and me.
© 2010 Tikarma Vodicka