Please note that all blog posts before 8 April 2007 were automatically imported from LiveJournal. To see the comments and any LiveJournal-specific extras such as polls and user icons, please find the source posting at http://brianenigma.livejournal.com/2004/02/You'll have to pardon my artiness this eve. The last few times I had to directly deal with any sort of death were long ago and mentally scarring during formative years. Some of that angst-ridden, poetry-writing teenager is trying to bubble to the surface. Fortunately, I am a lot better in recognizing bad gothic-I-wanna-be-a-vampYre poetry. I believe I understand at least some of the subtleties of haiku. While I cannot claim the following is good poetry, I believe it to not be bad, and certainly several orders of magnitude better than the tripe I wrote over a decade ago.
nothing comes out but silence
vocal chords fading
driving in light rain
vision is getting blurry
is it eyes or rain
so skinny so frail
soon you will no longer be
Monday is too soon
your sister still plays
you no longer want to play
Precious does not know
you clung to my lap
tonight you hide under bed
things are getting worse
trash is piling up
forgot to eat Saturday
must care for myself
