Just a Little Poem I Wrote

I can't concentrate, and the words in my brain just won't straighten out.
I have phrases, have ideas.
I have thoughts.
I have poetry.
But I can't seem to get it out.
My pen tip flows: a waterfall of blue-black ink.
Blurring at the edges.
Agitating me more.
My ideas, though, are not like ink.
They don't flow, they won't sit on paper.
They will sit and stew in brain matter.
They will float and fly and never alight.
They will remain half-formed because they just won't cooperate
Like trying to catch doves in the morning.
They say: Write poetry. How hard can it be?
Pressure.
Pressure to win, because if I don't, what will become of my self-esteem?
Everyone else: wonderful poets.
Give me advice. They write
Amazing poems.
They write ideas, not complaints.
How? I wonder, as my pen tip flows.
They don't understand my plight.
Plight, because this is my future.
These disobedient ideas
This pressure;
I am a writer
But of fiction: without rhythm or rhyme or any of those cursed, blessed plagues.
Fiction: my straightforward fiction.
My poetic fiction.
My comfortable fiction.
Without pressure: my world of chapters and plots,
Characters, and, ultimately, inescapable ideas.
Even fiction is no longer comfortable.
Harsh editors.
Rejected by publishers.
Poetry
And fiction
The fate (and delight) of a writer.
Who was to know?

Of Daffodils and Dancing

I haven't actually written in quite a long time (a week, to be precise), due to Extreme Business on my part. But now i am writing to say that my long-term obsession with J has now come to an end. A final and complete end. An overall stop. In fact, for now I am going to be focusing on the important things: my writing, my friends, the fact that spring has indeed now sprung, and, alas, My Prince, things such as that. Speaking of spring springing (teehee), I never thought daffodils and magnolia flowers ( such as the ones blooming in my front yard), as well as the sun looming over the clouds and finally (after quite a long struggle) managing to peak out, could give as much delight as it has. Perhaps I have finally learned to enjoy the simple things in life. On the subject of enjoyment, I went to a dance last night. In past dances I have attended, I haven't actually really done any dancing. This time, however, I danced for almost the entire thing (except for the slow songs, because I don't have anyone to dance with), and had more fun than I ever have in my entire life (well, possibly). But, alas, the magnolias call me, and I feel I must get up off of this computer chair and out and about.

Delightedly,
Rosie L.

Of Floaty Lilac Dresses and Confessions

I have finally left my family's house, and I head for home today! Alas, perhaps My Prince is waiting for me there? I can only hope... actually, I have begun thinking quite a bit about... J!! Perhaps he is My Prince after all? I think I shall call him sometime soon and make a huge marvy confession and see how he reacts. Because even if he reacts badly, I will never, ever see him again. Probably. In any case, I head for home today! I hope I will finally have access to my other computer and will be capable of letting Raspberry Beret unfold on the digital pages of my blog. But one can only hope, can't they? Now I am in quite a whimsical mood (due to that last rather whimsical sentence). I feel like putting on a floaty lilac dress and prancing about the yard with a basket of flowers, with a white horse sort of galloping around me. But I don't really have a white horse, or a floaty lilac dress, or indeed a basket. I might be able to locate some flowers, but I would probably be ravaging my flower bed for the rest of the season. So I shall refrain from my whimsical tendencies and thoughts. I shall be practical and hardworking! I shall drive, drive like the wind! I shall call J, and he shall admit that he has loved me all his life (well, since I met him a couple of months ago)! I'm off!!!!

No-longer-whimsically,
Rosie L.

Of Failure and Life Completion

Today was my last day visiting my family. When I took Jordan for a walk, I looked and looked, harder than ever, but I still didn't see anyone. I've been looking, and, frankly, my fruitless results have left me slightly disheartened. I guess I'm better off finding him where I live, so that I could see him more often. I guess I can't give up now, because this is a lifetime thing and I've just started. I must press on!! At least I have finally finished my school project, so I've got that out of the way. Thank goodness!! Now I just need to finish Raspberry Beret (which I haven't really been working on), get my masters in library science (sorry-- information science), publish a book, work with Greenpeace to save endangered species, and find My Prince until my life is complete. I can't wait. I can't wait at all. Well, maybe something exciting will happen when I get home. My life is once again becoming vaire vaire boring... Maybe I should stir up some excitement by calling J. If it wouldn't be to clingy. Would it?

Confusedly,
Rosie L.

Of Princes and Red Clay

It all began yesterday evening, when I was walking my grandmother's dog. As I strolled the streets of small-town North Carolina, the red clay caking on my shoes and the 50-degree breeze chilling me through my sweater, I got to thinking. I realized, then and there, that I hadn't yet found My Prince. My Prince is The One. Everyone has a Prince (or a Princess). My Prince will have dark, floppy hair that curls up at the ends. He will be taller than me, and will wear button-down shirts and jeans, and Converses. He will be athletic, but not a jock. He will be artsy, or at least appreciate my artsiness, and he will be sweet. Most of all, he will love me no matter what, and he will NOT be a Republican. I don't care how much I can learn. Nu-uh. Not gonna happen. Anyway, as I tugged Jordan (the dog) away from people's yards, where he had his nose pressed to the vivid green grass, I looked at every house I passed, and I looked for My Prince. Needless to say, I didn't find him, but I will keep looking for ever and ever. Maybe J is My Prince, and I really should call him. Maybe not. All I know is, I WILL find him eventually. I will keep looking forever, and I will make mistakes, but in the end, he'll show up. For now, I need to go sand some furniture.

Determinedly,
Rosie L.

Of Naughty Cats and Reminders

Right now I am visiting some family in good ol' North Carolina. However, we are having a slight problem with a very naughty cat that seems to be a neatness motivator. If anyone leaves any clothes on the floor, she will automatically pee on them. At least it will help everyone remember to not leave stuff on the floor. Goodness knows i will not be leaving clothes on my room floor ever again. Some of my family are talking about putting the cat to sleep, but I think that's a bit harsh. Just stop leaving your clothes on the floor, for Pete's sake! Anyway, (although I know everyone can't wait to hear more about the cat) I am not having much luck getting over J, because right when I think I've got it, Na goes and reminds me of him! Saying I should call him and such. Should I? I have a feeling it would seem clingy, but Na doesn't think so. Giddy God Trousers, Na, shut up about J!!!

Irritatedly (I know, I know-- not a word!),
Rosie L.

Well, my schedule has once again slowed down and I find myself with much spare time to write Raspberry Beret. However, the rest of it is still on my other computer, which is currently being used. So, I am in a pinch. I suppose I'll just have to copy it down here another time. Ah, well. Dramatic things on the J front have significantly slowed down, as well, since i never see him anymore. I am trying to forget him, but the only problem is that I don't want to. I'm having some trouble thinking of a fantasy element for Raspberry Beret (this abrupt change of subject is due to the fact that I am very much not thinking about J), so if anyone actually reads this and could give me some feedback, I would really appreciate it. I am going to be very busy over spring break (I'm visiting family-- and I have a school project to do, award metals to make, and a scene i've just agreed to help a friend with to write), so i don't know how much I'll get done. I'm off!

Appreciatively,
Rosie L.