I look to you,
My friend,
The emptiness bedside me.
There is no one there,
I am alone,
As life and I worked together
To shut those doors,
To isolate this pain
And wonder
And joy
From interlopers outside.
I shall live and die alone,
For that is how life was ordained-
Man in the image,
In the image of a lonely god.
There is sadness.
In isolation there is always sadness and regret.
We are a social creature
And solitude begets pain.
I do not fear the pain,
But neither am i the fiend who might embrace that kiss.

Tonight I do wish for a friend.
That is something I no longer remember,
Something whose memory shall only grow fainter.

Tonight I am alone.


5 responses to “Friend

  • Holistic Wayfarer

    Nice juxtaposition of the abstract and concrete (myth…shut those doors). But I wonder why you needed to spell out “I am alone” in between since you established that there was no one there and you repeat the aloneness toward the end. People will relate to the solitude you speak of.

    • dtdeedge

      I believe I wrote that line for myself, as sometimes I forget there might be others reading.

      I have not yet arrived at the point of fine-tuned refinement in my work. I belch out poem and prose, and have not yet learned the art of the edit. I fear that lesson, as I am grown weary of work and of learning. I want to be and to know and to have, and I have so little energy and desire in becoming. I fear I have grown old, and learning to edit requires that I become young once more.

      How do you edit? Do you read aloud? I rarely even read a piece a second time. With poetry, if I read the first line, I cease to be, and I exist only as the singular emotion that resides in that poem. I do not know how to remove myself from the piece, and to see what someone else might read. It is akin to describing how an acquaintance would write of your mood in a letter to her mother. I do not know how to efface my investment in the pieces so that I can be self-objective.

      The problem is only growing, as I now have 30,000 words of a prose novel rolling out. My goal is 150,000. That, I am hoping, will allow me 50,000 words of cut to finalize a 100,000 word book. I am hoping to conquer the beast of editing all in one fell swoop, at a time that is quite comfortably in the future. Until then, I welcome insight from those who can truly be outside of my mind.

      Thank you for your comment.

      • Holistic Wayfarer

        You wrote a post. I actually don’t read aloud as I should, except when I’m caught between alternate phrasings. Well, unless you’re writing a novel for your eyes only, you’ll have to find a way to step out of your head, won’t you? =) You won’t want to edit as I do. I reread until I’ve (unwittingly) memorized much of what I wrote, combing every word for detritus and clarity. I don’t want to waste a minute of readers’ time so I try to get it as tight as possible. Distance helps, when I return with fresher eyes.

      • dtdeedge

        Hmmm. I think you care more for the reader than I do.

      • Holistic Wayfarer

        That’s an interesting bit of reflection, though I don’t mean to take the compliment so readily. Seems we should, no?

Leave a Reply

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

You are commenting using your 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

Mick On Everything

Just a regular guy who is interested in everything

Wherever you go, there you are.

And here I am, Judith Clarke, writer.


Turning Tears & Laughter into Words

A Word From The Raven's Beak

Or whatever I came up with whilst eating cereal this morning

t h i n g s + f l e s h

lyrical essays on songwriting + other mysteries

Syl65's Blog

Poetry, creative writing and a desire to inspire..... Isaiah 40: 31 But they who wait upon the Lord will get new strength. They will rise up with wings like eagles. They will run and not get tired. They will walk and not become weak..

Words are mighty

poems, and poems again

Itty Bitty Journeys

Epic Tales of Tiny Adventures


literary fictions, flashes, fiascos

All That I Love

Because Writing Is Therapy

poetry by skull

The Musings of N. E. Skull


The heart has to be able to act against itself. (m.m.)

A Holistic Journey

Finding my way back out of motherhood -- while mothering

Experimental Fiction

"Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of pure imagination" Willy Wonka, 1971

Just breathe.

Life is beautiful. And there is so much to be grateful for.

Nathan Blixt

Art, Text, Code, Design

%d bloggers like this: