excerpt from a wip that became left in the dark (still scratching and scraping to get back in the writing saddle)

Well gosh missus narrator
– you too mister primary narrator –
both you narrators, gosh you – well all this
here – the stoop on which we gathered guests feel
so welcome – and that was a wonderful breakfast
and from where I could see – if you don’t mind – when you
were clearing the table, missus narrator,
well I was on my way out but I – well this sure is
embarrassing, but I was missing my matches
because as you both know it’s hard to turn away
the tempter of tobacco
once a hearty meal has concluded.

Thought maybe my  matches fell out of my bibs
pocket which I couldn’t see really or if
I’d not been under the intoxicating
vestiges of those biscuits and your gravy,
missus narrator – Heidi? I can call you
Heidi? So missus Heidi Narrator
the taste of your thick and creamy gravy,
I guess that contributed to the slight
intoxication I was under
when I was about to push the door open
– and you know I love screen doors – they were once
common in my land – screen doors – gosh you don’t know

how tempting it is or how easily I could
drive all here totally insane if I could
do what I really want or one of the things
I’d really love to do and one of those things
I’d just love to do all day long is to go in
and out of your most cozy cabin just to
listen to the musical squeak your screen door
does – I bet you can’t even find those  
melodic springs in my world anymore
– and that’s a beautiful – another beautiful
feature of your world up here – because back in mine
when I try to tell someone something

they get on my case because I tend to get
off course or off track and gosh it’s the most
refreshing glass of spring water to be here
where you don’t feel pressured to get to a point
because there is the feeling of eternity
up here and honestly the last topic
I personally expected – though coming here
to try and get to know a few reasons for why
we do what we do I guess I should’ve stashed
more expectations in the attic than I did
– yeah I guess I did bring a few expectations
because I really didn’t expect you’d delve into

war – though I can see a hazy reason
though only in an outline that even as
a hazy outline appears a reasonable
mystery that shouldn’t be a mystery
at all nor should’ve stretched into our time
because it just makes sense we all possess
within us a lust for war or the lust for war
may be dormant in us but alive in our
neighbor so – but it still boggles the – or
I’ll not speak for another but mine for
it boggles my imagination that the lust
for war can enter inanimate  

objects, which I can see is leaping ahead
– no dear tale, please forgive my liquor-
loosened tongue – so to knock the thing
out of the way will allow aid to more
easily help move the tale closer to
readiness for the curtain’s rise – and this
Admiral Cutlass – sounds like a being
I should be thankful I never met – that
specifics are avoided – not sure I want
to ask or know but you know it’s the exact
act of avoidance that pulls me closer to the edge
of this rail and maybe if I come to know more

about the atrocities authored by
this Admiral Cutlass I’ll wish I’d just left
it alone – oh the booze – I only had to sip
one sip to suspect this is some stuff too strong
for my system to take more than the one sip
I sipped – that’s another thing – your world up here
– man back in mine you can’t find strong drink
like this anymore and forget small cups
of ceramic – the lightness in my head
and the loosening of inhibitions makes me
want – well I could want the obvious
but the intricate design on this

little cup – the bright green of the forest trees
and I can see specific leaves as if this
design is no mere design but its own world
which makes its own music like I know
the pleasant rhythms I hear come only from
an imagination this booze encourages
but I could be convinced – oh yes if you
would tell me miniscule bands invisible
to the naked eye existed in this
little world on this beautiful ceramic cup
and really created the music I know
is only in my imagination, truly

I would believe you unlike I’d not believe you
had I not partook of the booze – plum you say?
Oh what benevolent uses you use
your plums for oh lovely narrators
and gosh I say again the way it seems
to call me I know I could get lost in this
little scene painted on this little ceramic cup
– antiquity? Yeah that makes sense – wow – bottles
didn’t destroy everything. Yeah that makes sense.
Glassware can run through city streets and gain
control of councils. Yeah. Wow. Never thought of it
that way. How clay or a world rich in clay –

yeah I guess only a foolish glassware
product would think it could ravage an entire
mountain containing so much clay and that
makes sense too: how glassware warfare
in the plains gave an impression the bottles
would gain complete control over all the world
– and other worlds – wow I didn’t know
that – I thought they were only after
power in the plains – wow – well it’s a good
thing a few ships imprisoned inside
some of those bottles turned their cannons
on their overlords. It would make sense

too about the turn in Admiral Cutlass,
that such harsh interrogations
sent him into blindness captivity.
Sold himself. Guess he went – no I’m not judging
either – just glad we live on planes and in worlds
that haven’t succumbed to those – learned the value
of vigilance – guarding what is of eternal
value – like the making of strong drink and a hand
no longer with us who could paint and did expend
the time to paint such intricate scenes on these
little ceramic cups which alone
send out vibes of welcoming warmth.


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.
This entry was posted in fiction, poetry, practice, stanza-para-strophes and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.