When I started these Irrewind thingies, I led off with a group of writings I call "metaphoric prose." Sounds obvious, I realize that, but to me "metaphoric prose" just means a poem too lazy to be in a poem format. Thanks to some unexpected motivation last summer, I sort of went on a tear of the things and knocked quite a few of them out. Not my favorite style of writing, but I found them useful when writing other things, and I did enjoy them.
Anyway, here are more:
"The Strange Walk That is Memory Lane"
Nostalgia's a strange thing. Okay, maybe not, but it is a curious thing that so many find reaching into mail boxes on memory lane such an addicting sensation. Most of the time nothing is there but junk mail. Sometimes, however, letters completely forgotten are pulled out and delivered anew. Maybe it's a memory sent, maybe received... Read More
"Beauty; Fear: A Fairy Tale"
Fear in beauty. Beauty in fear. Opposite ends of a compass that only points in one direction. Shy in the face of a beautiful woman is the same as fear in the face of drowning. The more beautiful it is, the better to kill you with. The curious snake bearing poisoned apples, the avalanche of pure white sliding down a mountain, a smiling cat... Read More
"Memoir of a Forgotten Memory"
There's a friend lost somewhere. There always is. Someone or something that brought out childhood laughter, someone or something that was there to hold when the sky fell. A neighborhood crush, maybe a teddy bear. A random snippet of a show on television. A sad movie whose title was never known. Or, perhaps, the perfect angle... Read More
It's imagined many ways. To the left, to the right, straight ahead with eyes closed and the hope that nothing goes awry. So many thoughts into so few spans of time. A sensation longing to endure, betrayed by a lifetime seemingly unwilling to begin. In the dark, a mirror or a photograph, perhaps real or just of the mind's eye... Read More
"The Whale and the Albatross"
It's empty out here, but there's air to breathe closer to the surface. Silence is relative, the gentle breeze and the crest of wave so familiar they make no noticeable sound. Cloud and island are all that break the landscape of blue deserts. A setting sun and its reflection point the way home and to a much needed rest. Tomorrow, sunrise will... Read More