the current gbf event rn aaaaa

With ever-lasting madness Gazing through empty, flashing eyes Golden wheat sounds fill my head Over something seldom sung  Wandering with broken feet Over hills in distant sands While white birds battle black In thunder-strewn winds  Drunken mercies shattered, From screams, escape desperate times Still, outlawed hope beats with heavy wings Amongst tombstone-blackened minds   Winding maze concealed With parting drifting seas Finds poets’ dying whispers Over abandoned love’s remains Buried deep without compassion Crazed within the storm Lost without redemption Will it all be mourned?

Years ago, I used to write poetry. I keep meaning to pick the habit back up. It's been somewhere shy of twenty years now since it was a regular habit. Couldn't even begin to guess at how long it's been since I've written anything. The first one on this post was completely outside anything I'd ever done. I was inspired by Paul McCartney of all people. This was when I was really researching The Beatles. I used to come home from school (high school and college) and listen to music, write, and play solitaire. All day long, I'd fill notebooks full of my favourite lyrics and write story ideas, poetry, etcetera. Been going through various past writings of mine looking for loose papers I wrote in regards to the novel that has been in my head for most of my life. It's funny that I thought I had majorly changed the plot as I finally sit down to write it instead of only researching mythological lore. Instead, I'm finding scraps from many, many years ago with these same plotlines in them. It's been with me for a long time. I'm been finding various things as I go. Such as: Butterfly playing skip rope with the dog's tale A wrinkly hound With a long nose of butterscotch And: A day without days is like a moment without moments. Broken wings flutter sobbing on the wind while lopsided suns salute frivolously from a grey-bent sky. All the while, tears well within the dusty cracks of civilization proving to be too much for the sinner to hold fast in trembling hands. You can't escape them and the moments become moments as the grains of sand join the tears. Sighs lament over lost words and broken hearts as brooding trees echo the wind's rage over being left to face the truth. Really not sure WTF was going on in my head as I wrote some of this stuff. The first line makes no sense.

Then there's this:

THE BLACK ROSE

Faded yet vibrant Its beauty cuts like a knife A haunted, forlorn quality Its darkness shimmering Like the water's reflection Reflecting nothing Its thorns hold a sacred price Forsaken life A single cut rose - in black Mistaken Wild darkness A commitment made unaware Beware 

I was certainly moody back in the early 2000s on. It's an interesting time capsule. Really got going on haikus and their 5-7-5 form for a while there too. Should pick that habit back up as it's a simpler way to be creative throughout the day.

The only writing I've done since is Rhett and Link fan fiction. Was reading some of it today (a couple of years old now) and was tempted to tinker around and fix them up better. Still have a chapter to go on the one. However, this is how I always lose track of my novel. Not pausing it. Need to get a good schedule going.