Sunday, October 16, 2005

Siren Song

She was his
"wine-dark sea."

But he returned
to his Penelope.

Think this was written during an...ahem..."classical" stage. You know, the one that many young writers with creative pretensions go through. ("O Demeter, bronze-rustler, do you remember...") One can blame a lot on Homer and the Agean playwrights. But a published poet and editor told me once he wished he's written it. Perhaps he had just finished reading some 1709 line cry to Eros, the Erinyes or Euterpe and the brevity of it relieved him.
For me, it took a lot of courage to begin to blog - and a lot of nagging. To gather up one's bits and pieces ( a bit of mind, a piece of soul) and fling them out one by one, like tiny comets, into the black abyss of a strange galaxie, hoping that a few may glimmer for some sky watcher before they fall and fade.

2 comments:

Onsmi Welcol said...

Spread the word -- I've made a real post on Acidic Critiques! My blog is back in business.

Ric said...

Just shoot them out there and hope they create the tiny glimmer of recognition, jog a memory, touch a heartstring.

Sometimes without ever knowing what it is that tips the mouse in the direction of your name, what causes someone to return, then you just keep doing it because they still seem to come.

Have no idea, but it is interesting. Sometimes you do it because it just feels right.