The Prince and the Windmill

Unfinished....but it will be!

I have moved the Prince and the Windmill to the following link: The Prince and the Windmill. I have not yet finished it because of writer's block but I shall, hopefully, one day return to it. I do have other works I'd like to share, however, so I am now moving on and posting those. Enjoy!

posted by Pacer 1/10/2002

Word Stream

Some times I sit and stare and stagger and hear the sound of footsteps falling in the dark night in the forest hills and dales and I pause and think of the moments when I sleep and what goes on in the darkness beyond and I fear the world which is out there and I begin to sweat and get mightily upset but then my mother comes and brings me some peace of mind and shelters I find in the folds of her dress and length of her hair and sometimes I stare.

posted by Pacer 1/10/2002

Aged Adventurer Revisited

The aged adventurer began a quest
To find the seat of happiness
He strapped his sword upon his side
And bid those he loved a fond goodbye

And as he stopped out from his door
he looked upon the fields that laid before
And thought in his mind of how it was fine,
The place he had left once before

Upon his horse he mounted up
And off he rode with gallant stride
Towards the horizon
Far and wide

Throughout the years he rode and rode
And many an adventure did unfold
With damsels and nins, kings amd princes
And godl upon gold and riches upon riches

But one day the bold one returned
To the family farm and unto his home
And he looked over the fields once more
With tears in his eyes for the lovely moor

Happiness had eluded him through his days
But upon these fields it began to say
Into his ears with quiet words
The reason for being quite absurd

All along, through these years, I've traveled and traveled
I shed many tears
When true happiness I now know is here
Inside myself all of these years

posted by Pacer 1/10/2002

Tuesday, January 08, 2002

Jumble

The night is full of starry clouds
And summer's gentle rain
And though I sit and stare about
I can never seem to explain

The wonders of this clear moonlight
And the soft footfalls of fame
As they walk away from me
And vanish in a haze

And my mind is full of nonsense sounds
And my heart is full of lead
And always I go walking out
Of my summer's bed

Into a sea of doubtfulness
And on a moment's lark
I take the wrong path downwards
Into a room of dark

And upon my bed of pillows
And my blanket of truth
My mind wanders ever onward
Until it sees the proof

Of my own undoing
At fate's agent's hands
And my soul's departure
From this harrowed land

And sadness comes upon the heels
Of her flower train
While happiness goes before her feet
And echoes in the rain

With soft and gentle laughter
From the lips of love
And magic in her hazel eyes
And Madness from above

And still I wait for something
Upon time's golden wings
And sit and ponder
The ever faithful ring

Of the old chapel's bell
Upon the flowing green
With one big bold oak tree
Hanging over me

posted by Pacer 1/08/2002

Sunday, January 06, 2002

An Essay on the Depressive Mood

When you go through depression you usually are not always "depressed" so to say but rather you have series of highs and lows. It is different from manic depression in that the highs are not as high, however. Your highs are more around the "I feel normal" than "I feel like I could fly I'm so happy" of a manic depressive.

So there are times when you feel normal. However, when you are depressed, you are just hit with moments when you want to crawl into your bed, pull the covers over you, and just whimper and cry. You do not want to face the world and you simply want to do nothing. Even if you are alone you want to do nothing but curl up and cry.

It depends on how badly you are depressed as to how frequent these things are. When you are badly depressed, especially in the opening stages of depression when it is normally the worst (in cases where a catalyst such as a death or bad breakup or divorce was evident), small things tend to touch off these instances.

However, when you are still feeling the residual effects of depression (as in you are still sad but have built in controls to manage it and the major catalyst that brought the depression on is no longer as controlling an influence as before) there are times when these moments hit that make no sense. Sometimes you cave and curl up and sometimes you simply start using your management tools in order to face the depression and go on as normal (or as normal as one who has a depressive nature can be compared to the rest of the world).

These moments are not exactly "nonsense" moments in which depression is brought on by nothing. Rather these are moments in which the triviality of the thing which touched it off does not allow the person experiencing the depressive mood (or moment as it was referred to earlier in this essay) to realize what exactly caused the depressive mood. In other words: There was a reason but the mind of the depressant ignores it as too silly or to trivial to be the actual reason for the depression.

These moods are similar to the moods often times more publicized in such things as TV commercial for anti-depressant drugs. The feeling is about the same as the "not wanting to get up in the morning" feeling and is of the same nature.

Anway, I hope this made semi-sense.

posted by Pacer 1/06/2002

Midget 3

Swiftly softly sinking sighing,
Flipping flopping blinking blinding,
Settling on the book's binding
Thoughts of magic,
Thoughts of you,
Thoughts of rhyming.

posted by Pacer 1/06/2002

Midget 2

Every moment in time
Is an answer to the rhyme
Of where and when and how
And what shall we do now

posted by Pacer 1/06/2002

Midget 1

Reason is a poor master,
Passion is too strong.
If I were but ruled by both of these
Then I could never be wrong.

posted by Pacer 1/06/2002

Saturday, January 05, 2002

Yearning

I once let my heart free
It bounded off
And left me

And it was lost
And I was lost
Until one day it returned

Battered and beaten, black and blue
And I vowed once then
To never let the world through

For my heart had barely endured
One small roundabout
And I feared another
Disaster would bring about

And now it seeks to burst through my chest
And once more feel the happiness
Of running free in love filled fields
And galloping across the twighlight yields

And I shy
And hesitate
And wait for a moment too late

For I am scared of what the world might do
If I let down my guard for you.

posted by Pacer 1/05/2002

A Conversation With One's Self

"Oh and I do like her. So much so. But I am unsure. I am unsure of her affections towards me and I am unsure of how my affections might be recieved by her. And I am uncertain and unsure and confused and, oh what shall I do?

"Perhaps it is best to wait? And let the flame of my passion die down in order to see the truth of love underneath? For so often passion can subsitute for love and, when it is gone, one finds there is nothing underneath.

"But if I wait shall I not wait until it is too late? I can feel the sands of chance slipping through my fingers every moment, every second I wait longer. Perhaps my chance to act has passed. Perhaps I have indeed waited too long.

"And I am unsure as to what exactly my affections may be. Is it love? Or is it simply glowing admiration? It is something, that much I can be assured of by the very tremors of my heart and the awkwardness of my words and feet.

"This uncertainty, this love. It must be this that was the downfall of many a man, and woman for that matter, and I find myself humbled by it.

"I stand. And do not act. And stand some more. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the perfect moment. Waiting for eternity? There is no perfection, and I very well might be waiting until I turn into dust and bones.

"I shall blurt it out in my normal manner. And be laughed at as a clown. Or felt sorry for as a beggar. And either way be taken less seriously and be less of a comfort in company.

"Elliot was right. And should I presume? As Prufrock asked, and which decision shall I reverse as this minute passed?

"And like the immovable mountains I sit and ponder my fate. Nothing more than I could longer wait."

posted by Pacer 1/05/2002

Thursday, January 03, 2002

All I Really Want

And all I really want is to fly
And all I really want is to fly
And all I really want is to fly

Through the sky all alone
And feel the swift warm breeze brush over my brow
And all I really want is to fly

Along with you along this life
And breathe the cool sky's air
And all I really want is to fly

Down the currents of the wind
And believe that we will always be around here
And all I really want is to fly

With a hand in mine
And a heart so fine
And all I really want is to fly

posted by Pacer 1/03/2002

Tuesday, January 01, 2002

Smiles and Eyes

Sitting back
Drinking a bottle of wine
And to me the girl's eyes seem very fine
And to me its those eyes which warm my inside
Not the wine in my hand and in my belly
But the warm fuzzy to her alone belongs

Do I love?
Or do I fixate?
Or do I just like?
And would her hand feel nice?
And her waist in my arm?
And my lips on hers?
Or are they illusions of my mind?

These visions of her fine eyes
And my smile
And hers

But right now I do not care
And I let the wine compare
Itself to her
And her to itself
And I leave it for another day

And I blush
And grin like a sheep
And go off to sleep.

posted by Pacer 1/01/2002