Tuesday, December 16, 2008

7 Pieces in 7 Days

So I set myself a couple of challenges last week. The first was to go without soda for a week. Made it 5 days.

The second was to write one original piece per day for a week. I made 7 of 7 days, from Monday through Monday, and I've got a start on Tuesday. Can I go 8 for 8?

I won't post all of them here, because that would be self indulgent and obnoxious, but I picked my two favorites from the period and one that I got busted writing when I should have been being social. See if you can guess which one's which.

By way of context, these are all written in one shot with no editing or revision.

Eyes scratched inside like broken glass
Sunlight through the blinds
The promise of a new day gone stale
The taste of last night's stout
Where exactly did tomorrow go?
Where might you have left it?
Through your dirty window watch
Is that rain? Is it smoke?
Are you thinking about later?
The sound of wheels waiting for you
Just beyond
Just past the place you wanted to stop
Towel dry
Burn your coffee. You like it that way.
You shouldn't drink so much anyway.
Irish it up? Iris it shut?
Fade to black and scene
Curtain call before the overture and then you can just skip the formality
The taste in your throat like a cigarette
You forgot to stop smoking until you hit the filter
Where exactly did you leave tomorrow?
Why can you only find today?
Think back. You remember.
Last week.
Last month.
Last year.
But not last night.
Now where, exactly, did you leave tomorrow?

Lights in the mirror reflect
Questions left unasked
Answers unneeded in the dawn's first flash
Eyes open to yesterday and closed again
Blown glass casting shadows
Like echoes of tomorrow
Bleeding through the seams
Shining past today
I see what was and never what is
Where and when no longer matter
What color do I bleed
Cut with a razor I can't see
The day's first light brings sights
I'd rather not see
But I can't close my eyes

If an answer in the negative
Stops conversation in its tracks
What is there to talk about?
What questions left to ask?
If the story that unfolds
Is too much or not enough
Remember silence broken
In the words that passed for love
A thousand ways to ask this question
Only one way to respond
Pick the locks before I turn
To see the damage that we've done
Tunneling to freedom
Seeing light through the dirt
Shovels ground down in our hands
And just ourselves to hurt
So come on and ask your questions
Reach right in and take hold
But if the answer pulls away
Be strong enough to let it go

1 comment:

tinaparker87 said...

12/14 only becuase I think there is more.