2004-03-31 - 11:07 a.m.

I had quite the morning today. I woke up before 8, the sunlight still slanting sharply against the kitchen wall so I could barely see it.

I opened an old unused notebook that I'd put to use on the dayport project. I've been making notes about how to design the classes and processes for my application, but at that moment I just needed paper to write with. I had something important to write down, I guess. Thing is, I have no idea what it might have been because the page I opened the book to was already full.

I noticed a dog-ear fold in the top corner, and that, a vague memory, and the particular shape of my writing that pegged it as really old, made me realize what it was. I'd written something far into the book, knowing I'd find it some day and be flabbergasted.

And I'd forgotten all about it.

she sits there waiting, pen in hand

before her is a lonely land,

a vast expanse of white beneath her finger-tips.

and slowly from her drips

the art of words and phrases.

a sentence that amazes.

a drip, a drop, a metaphor,

a dewy simile and more.

The land, once bare, is coloured bright,

a happy sight, a site

carved by her artist's might.

Yet she knowssees not

what has begot

her timidshy imagination.

in timid fear,

how deaf her ear

to her people's mute ovation.

this beauty now, this inky wonder

this world that won't be torn asunder

stands, a silent testament

to feelings seldom given vent.

Yeah. Then I started writing on the page. First word: 'barf'. Right after the "Yet she strikestrike knows sees not what has begot" part. Then checkmarks where I liked it, dewy simile, her people's ovation. Then a comment on the side about how I got derailed there after "artist's might". The poem could very well end there

But then I would have to write a second poem to use the last part. It's so true. I just need to rewrite it.

The amazing thing about finding this is that, even though the writing style makes me want to ralph half the time and it's so cheesy-toned it stinks in general, the feelings I expressed in it felt fresh and new even on rereading. And they certainly haven't changed. Hmm.. "this world that won't be torn asunder". What an interesting way to put it ;)

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