a couple more for breakfast, a little more for tea

[plasmic_vega]

sitting at the writing desk
i begin what i do best
scribbling my life away
as i write another day

stories come alive in me
a dragon on a canopy
a woman screaming for her life
a dragonslayer with a knife

a little man with magic feet
a little thief out on the street
an albatross with sixteen eyes
a baker baking lots of pies

plots are dancing through my brain
of love and death, loss and gain
a potion here, a poison there
a conflict and a why and where

they all are flying through my mind
the perfect one i cannot find
i cannot choose the magic shoe
nor the priest or caribou

nor the traveler on the road
nor the evil, poison toad
the perfect story can't be found
with all my thoughts flying around

i pull my hair and slam my pen
it's happening to me again
every time it's all the same
my mind begins to play this game

tales flashing like fireflies;
these thoughts are never organised
i tell myself that i'm absurd;
i do not write a single word

the thoughts blank out inside my head
of speeding cars and loaves of bread
of waltzes, jam, and feuding friends
they all have left my mind again

i tear my book and curse myself
i throw the pen back on the shelf
i could not choose what to write
i guess i failed myself tonight

~sam mcgwin

why didn't the child go to the pirate movie?

because it was rated "rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."
~(courtesy of my little cousin, dylan)