(poem) - Clung for Far too Long

I made mistakes early on
Wishing I could find the one
Looking past an idiot’s flaws
My fate’s conclusion seemed forgone

I lost my faith
In failed love’s wake

The true love I thought I’d never find
Was you

Life brings all sorts
Of slings and arrows to your ports
Love is extremely hard
When it was used, before, to extort

But then I came around
Thinking true love was not to be found

I had to give up on my false idea of love
For you

I woke up one day
Very far away
From my dreams and reality
I gave up on love in every way

I was lost
Without knowing the cost

And the person that found me
Was you

I never knew
This day would bring you
And I would experience
A love known only by few

I was found
And quite knowingly bound

The woman I call my wife
Is You.

--Dan

--Want more Poetry?  Check out my Poetry Collection Page!

Life as an Individual

One of the best things in life is being different, but its also one of the hardest things you could ever try to do.  I know, because I went out of my way to be different, to be myself, and the ridicule and flack I got from it, will haunt me the rest of my life.

There are no good role models for individuality.  Most who are revered for being such, have gone to the extremes.  I never went to any extremes, I simply was who I was and am who I am.  I don’t apologize for it, because its others who should apologize to me for trying to pull me into the herd.

Artistic Work

I have never written so much in my entire life.  I can easily compare it all to my early adulthood, when I was writing 8 hours a day.  I spend so much time in front of the computer now, its crazy.  And I have nothing but a backlog of work.

Thing is, its not just the writing, it’s the photography, the blog’s promotion, the working with Lisa on her newest novel, brainstorming.  I’m completely shocked at how much there is to do now that I have absolutely nothing to do.

(poem) - The Rewrite Struggle

There is nothing like a rewrite
To make one feel odd
Pushing text in a different way
In order to get a different nod

Different drafts
Are entirely other beasts
As opposed to writing
An entirely different feast

To keep the main idea
Is the absolute key
While removing bad content
And letting the story free

The real question is
Will it all work
Or by changing the story
Will it do nothing bur irk?

Such is the life
A writer has to live
While balancing on the edge
One cannot afford to be passive

This body of work
Is mine to tame
If I cannot work it out
It will be even more lame

But I shall not put down
This ever so epic tale
Because I believe in Deeya
Enough that I shan’t fail

Buried Secrets
Has arrived again
A new format for the tale
Is being achieved under my pen

I refuse to loose readers
Because of bad choices for a first draft
I am not sailing this ship
As if it were a raft

No,
The story will be told right
For this
Is my eternal fight

To conquer my writing demons
To challenge myself in every way
And win
Upon this very day.

--Dan

--Want more Poetry?  Check out my Poetry Collection Page!

The Death of the Social Pariah

One of the worst things about human behavior is childishness.  I can understand it when you are a child, but sometimes, its like people never truly do.  If you make an adult decision, then stand by it.  Don’t get all petty later.

One of the biggest issues with this problem is the fact that kids become adults far too quickly.  Girls are pushing out children at an alarmingly early age.  And its very obvious to point out, they just aren’t ready for the responsibility.