Poems, novels, lyrics - all so endlessly demanding. Every moment I pull away - it's just more images, more metaphors, and more chorus's scraping at my brain lobes to torture me. When will they stop?
Heh, some call it a blessing - at times, some of me calls it a curse: the constant nagging, the undying need to write, write, write. If it isn't a poem, it's a snipet of your next full-length novel, or a scene from your first full-length feature film...the list really does go on forever if you try too hard.
Maybe that is it - I try too hard. I try too hard to be a poet, to be an author, to be creative, to be...me?
Well, maybe that isn't it. But I suppose you never know, now do we?
Oh well - back to the poems...
-RK
Heh, some call it a blessing - at times, some of me calls it a curse: the constant nagging, the undying need to write, write, write. If it isn't a poem, it's a snipet of your next full-length novel, or a scene from your first full-length feature film...the list really does go on forever if you try too hard.
Maybe that is it - I try too hard. I try too hard to be a poet, to be an author, to be creative, to be...me?
Well, maybe that isn't it. But I suppose you never know, now do we?
Oh well - back to the poems...
-RK
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