A long ago night…

Whispered secrets fall away
Warm silence drawing us near
Eternity's breath passes between
Inviting lips against mine
Coloring the surrounding night
With the first kiss before dawn

Words & Photo: 
August 18, 2014,  John L. Harmon



For the first one...

For the first one...

You seemed so bold at first

audacious was your nature
Then as time ticked on between us
you slipped quietly away
I never fully understood why

             you hesitated

 
Did I annoy you with my certainty
even though I was fresh and new
Did I scare you with my clinging
wanting to absorb everything I could

I was simply learning what you

             already knew

 
Yet with all of our combined faults
we were honest in the dark
Speaking softly, though alone,
of dreams realistic and strange
I was comfortable among the shadows

             of your room

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3/7/2012

John L. Harmon

The Spark

I sit here, attempting to focus on editing my own writing.  Not so much the words, just how they will look on paper.  Making sure sentences and paragraphs fall into reasonable alignment.  Nothing will be perfect, but I’ll be pleased if it looks presentable.

Yet, I am distracted by an unexpected occurrence.  Probably nothing earth shattering, but it is enough to occupy my impatient mind.  I don’t even want to say what exactly this occurrence is, because I fear it would make it less real, or a complete figment of my feverish imagination.

Suffice it to say that a spark has been detected in the surrounding darkness.  Maybe I shouldn't get excited about it, but maybe I should.  I don’t know.  All I know is that it is nice to feel something other than nothing.

Be well, Readers, and Freak Out,

JLH

Depressive Chicken

I have been emotionally all over the place these last few months.   Numbers have, with my willing permission, ruled my life.  At the beginning of each month I check e-book numbers for personal records, and each month, for many months, the numbers have remained static.  Even though I know what I'll find, the feeling of failure eats away at my interior, making me doubt everything.

For some reason this time hit me harder than usual, sending me dangerously close to the edge of a spiraling depression.  I'm familiar with this edge.  Visited it off and on many times over many, many years.  I've never fully dived over this jagged edge, but I have dangled my feet over it, daring the spiraling to drag me down.

Shaking off this latest round of depressive chicken, I contemplate what I want from my writing.  Readers is obviously the first want to pop into my head, but this is something I cannot control, no matter how frequently I post or tweet.  Please don’t misunderstand, I am forever grateful to those who have read my e-book serial and who enjoy my various blog posts.  Thank you, to the absolute extreme!

The second want to pop into my head is my oldest, and most dreamt of desire.  To see and hold a physical book with my name on it.  With technology finally catching up with my long-held dream, I can finally see the elusive finish line.  Yet, it is this potential print edition that also lures me to the edge.

With a print edition of "Dark Excursions" comes another number I can pretend not to obsess over.  This last year has shown me how I completely suck at generating new interest, so I must have zero expectations.  This print edition is for myself, so I can say I did this!  Yet, I know a flicker of hope will rise in me at the beginning of each month, though history has shown what I will find.  I worry the edge will look more inviting than ever, or worse, that I will consider my writing over and done.

What I must do is remember that I write for myself first.  Numbers should not define my success or failure.  Easier said than felt, especially in this number obsessed age, but I must drill this thought into my head...for my sanity…for my writing.

Thank you for reading...

Be well and Freak Out,
JLH

P.S.

RELATED POSTS:

FINISH

DANGEROUS

HOLLOW

DOUBT

Starting to finish…

I must finish what I started.

See it through to the end.

Even if it drains every last drop of hope out of my emotional self.

Even if it decimates what remains of my ability to dream.

Maybe…just maybe…once it is complete I will be able to put it behind me and see forward once more.

Then again it might just make my failure complete.

Either way…it will be done.

Dangerous Thoughts

Maybe the naysayers of my past were correct.

Maybe the naysayers of my present are correct.

Maybe the naysayers of my future will be correct.