note about this evening’s flurry of poetic posts

I hope it’s clear enough yet maybe not too clear that they examine the difficulties that come when interests accumulate and you feel you’ve not given one a deep enough exploration.

Like I’ve lately dabbled in trying to learn to draw and it just feels so good and I lose track of time – oh I’ve so much to learn, like everything there is to learn and I’m pretty sure my attempts at realism will barely reach passable at best – anyway, I got so wrapped up with pencils that I felt the words-poetry growing sad from neglect, because we’d decided we were the team some time ago, and here I am flirting with pencil and paper; so I tried to remind the poetry I still cared; care a lot I do, and I know what we have together is still the best match, and I wonder if it wouldn’t mind being paired with a sketch or two, just to try something different, but that would be down the road and this means I have to spend time with a pencil and paper; I do not want to lose the poetry, but I have to be honest: the poetry will just have to understand.

I don’t know, maybe the pencil will finally clatter to the floor and I’ll let it remain there and reunite with poetry. I’d rather we try to work something out so both are adequately satisfied – so all of us are. Anyway that’s the gist of tonight’s posts.

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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