A Writer’s Dream
Is it wrong to wish to write for writing’s sake? Is it wrong to feel the need to write a disclaimer only I’ll ever see?
I sometimes think I was born to the wrong era, that before computers and watches knew your name, I might have been happy. I’d have sat in my room as others scampered about living their lives and smiled at the view beyond the window, written down what I saw without forethought or fear. The clouds would’ve drifted across cerulean fields like mythical beasts and birds would’ve tweeted the minutes. With a quill for a sword and a wooden chair for a colt, I’d have lived out my days as a warrior of words and others would’ve been happy I did. But it isn’t days of yore, and there’s no time for idealism in today’s world of exactitudes and uncompromising rapport. We are. We will. We do as we’re told.
I sometimes wish the curtains to close and never open. Here wrapped in my private night, I’ll live in peace with these hundreds of thousands of words scattered all around; most long forgotten and stashed away in burrows of rabbited nonsenses. The songs I love will play in endless loops through ears with no wish to hear the spouted obscenities and harsh realities — or so they claim — of this, that and the other. Darkness will fold around me like a lover’s kiss, all-encompassing, and I won’t even know if I’m dead, nor care. But then the words will come, white on black, and I’ll feel more alive than ever.
Sometimes a voice calls from deep within that I presume my own but still doubt. This — let’s call it soul — knows my name, my home, my life, wife and circumstance, but even this supposed virgin self is dubious to my needs. What are my needs?
I have absolutely no wish for anyone to read what I write. I have absolutely no desire to be famous. If people happen upon these reams of written words and enjoy them, feel them, I’ll smile and thank them, and expect no thanks in return. If a child picks up one of my books and their eyes light up with wonder, I shouldn’t care if their parent commands them to put it back — not if the spark’s already lit. If? Such a little word. Such a pertinent package. But the cold hard reality, is something has to pay for a coffin and good intentions won’t.
Sometimes I think I’m free. Sometimes, but not often.
Thank you for reading
68 thoughts on “Sometimes”
Wow, heck of way to make an entrance! So nice to see you. You have been sorely missed.
You’re still an angel. 🙂
Nah, I hide my horns well. 😉 Are you back, or just popping in to tease us?
I’m unsure! I’ve plenty I could post but time is a problem. How’s that? LOL
How very vague of you! LOL I know many of us would love to see your writing. I hope you’re doing well!
I’m practising for a career in politics. 🤔😉
Oh, well that explains the vague. Okay then, carry on. 😉
The entirety educated me about a feel of completeness that I often miss on catching, a completion that I let slip in the lines of more and enough. I truly love this.
Thank you very much.
Your lack of wish is my command! I love reading what you write, my friend. Thank you!
So kind as always. 🙂
You made me fall in love with your words all over again. I wish to think you are writing only for writing’s and your sake. You certainly aren’t writing for me as I would selfishly demand more and more of your thousands of words. And never forget it was you and your words that convinced me to actually write a poem of my own. Miss you, R. Always, D(ana) — in case you have forgotten.
I could never forget you, D. I hope you’re keeping well.
Well, I know how fluid your memory can be. Smiles. I am doing well. Better than I ever expected. I am still very grateful for all you did for me.
Likewise. And I’m glad things are good. 🙂
What noble purpose you have for writing! Clearly, you have succeeded, albeit unintentionally, in stirring or spurring Dana (who, as far as I know, usually paints) to begin writing poems.
Perhaps this was a kind of epiphany that you experienced, and that transported you beyond the cold, hard reality, sometimes.
Thanks for the kind words. 😄
I work on the principle that life really is too short. Don’t waste it.
Actually, I have been a writer of sorts for decades. But approximately 7-8 years ago, Richard convinced me to write a poem. It wasn’t very good but Richard encouraged me to continue. I now write poetry more than prose. Smiles. I began painting 3-4 weeks ago. Richard is an incredible writer with a giving heart. I am honored to call him a friend.
Likewise D. 😊
Thank you, Dana, for your clarification. May you achieve even higher satisfaction and excellence in the coming years as your endeavours in writing poems continue to mature.
Happy May to you and Richard!
If nothing else, seeing your name pop up in y inbox lit a spark. You are missed around here, Richard.
Thanks, Sue. I miss you too. 🙂
You know where we are, Richard 🙂
I do. It’s a warm and snuggly place with chocolate in a dish and a nice cup of coffee.
And, at my end at least, probably a fair bit of small-dog hair 😉
That too. 😄
I really like what you write. And I also get the need to sometimes just write for yourself. I have half a dozen journals of mine where I wrote just because I wanted to. For me.
I’m glad it’s not just me. Thanks, Monika.
Been a while since I saw you here!! Hope are you fine and safe.
Hi Monika! Just here intermittently.
We’re in lockdown here, which is awful, but actually suits me fine. Write, write, write. 😄
Hope you’re okay and keeping well.
Yeah. The whole world is in Lockdown it seems. I am safe and fine here. Carry on with your writing ✍
Wow wow wow that was powerful. Your silence has made a power-packed presentation of your thoughts as always I loved it! Hooray for you! I will always be inspired by you my friend! So happy to see this! 🙂
Hi Michelle!!!!!! How did you know it was me? 😉
Lol it’s your style my friend you have a certain style. 😊🤗
Yeah, none. LOL
Oh I was looking for news about The Snow Lily. I remember you said you are doing a rewrite. Did I miss it?
I’m still going on it. Multi-tasking and all that 😉
Oh yay. I can’t wait to read that one! You are good at multi-tasking! So happy to see you hear again. Feels like old time R. 🙂
Where’s our hooray man?
Here he is. I saved him for you! LOL
What a magnificent, accurate way to describe the beauty and struggle of a creative mind.
Thanks, Chelsea. Always at odds and all that. 🙂
I loved reading what you had written. I felt it.
Thank you, Kristina.
Welcome back Richard😊
Great to see you. 🙂
so this is coming from a person who hasn’t written for a year- somewhere i felt trapped in my own doubts and that was partly the reason why i stopped writing..in that way i relate to this piece of writing. however, let’s never lose hope and keep hoping for freedom and liberation in writing in its true sense, ’cause that’s what writing stands for!
Well said. It sure does.
Mr. Richard, I see you vanished for a bit too (years? … my bit anyway). As always, I love this piece. I agree about this era … but if we’re to do as we’re told, then I say WRITE RICHARD! ❤ Very good to see you. xoxo Kimba
Cheers, K, it’s great to see you too.
Thank you Rich Richy Richard. Cheers. 🥂
I’ve often said (and probably not originally) that the mark of a true writer is if that person would write even if there was no hope of them ever becoming famous or even recognized as a writer.
Your essay above gives you the mark of a true writer.
Thank you 🙂
Reblogged this on From 1 Blogger 2 Another.
Thank you 🙂
As happens on the bloggish side of reality I lost track of you and was delighted to find you again. Most welcome Richard!
I sometimes glimpse the world you describe. Those mornings when I am the only one awake, no machines switched on, just me, the paper and a pen… Perfect, if shortlived paradise…
Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
These comments show that your readers love you. If I knew nothing else about you, that would be enough (said in my Prince Edward voice). I can see why. Your thoughts about writing and why you write are so similar to how I feel. I’ve been submitting and rejected recently and now ask myself why. That’s not why I started writing. Thank you for reminding me.
Lovely comment, Walt. Write and enjoy, that’s the main thing. 🙂
That’s what I do. No more stressing. Thank you sir. 🙂
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
What a wonderful piece…
Thank you 🙂
Dreaming away with words that shall stay in black and white. Written in August 2019, much before Covid19. What a way to remember a year. Presently, everyone has time with the lock down except those who are sick or attending. People are now praying for having lots of work. Hope to see more of your write-up.
Thank you. And, yes, it’s a strange time out there.