(no subject)
Jan. 19th, 2003 11:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spoketrying to go to sleep last night, this popped into my head:
Dream
Sleep.
Just sleep
just go to sleep.
Nevermind the world
nevermind the things
that conspire against you
to open your eyes.
Keep them closed and drift
until you see those skies
that welcome you home;
that know you, know them
for me the crystal castles
the storm and the caverns
and the people
who though they are long gone
have left us many things,
but most of all the mazes
the cities that still sing
of lives lived there,
and the woods that whisper, too
I go now to my dreaming
and advise the same of you.
i remember thinking after i jotted it down, that it was inspired by (and therefore, for) everyone who ever inspired me to write.
and suffered from insomnia.
upon waking, at ten in the morning, with a headache for no discernible reason; i decided that last night's urge to go try and hunt down all of the people above and give them said poem was quite ridiculous.
trying to discern patterns in my writing, i have noted so far that humor seems to grab me in the morning (or whenever i wake up), and sentimental fluffiness when i try to go to sleep.
now, to try and work out last few chapters of the Ring story.
Dear Diary,
The Gollum almost rescued us!
It would have, too, except that the Sam and Frodo ganged up on it. Then they put elvish rope on it, the horrible things! It hurt the poor Gollum.
The Gollum can hear Master Sauron too; I heard him. Then, for one beautiful instant, Frodo was drawing on my power! But - but - he used it to make him obey! My poor old Gollum.
I'm getting to the wretched Hobbit, though.
They won't be safe for long, though. Awful, damned Hobbits. The Gollum is still inside that stupid Smeagol, and planning, yes he is.
i think maybe i'm slipping some, but that's what going back over the whole thing once it's finished is for.
Dream
Sleep.
Just sleep
just go to sleep.
Nevermind the world
nevermind the things
that conspire against you
to open your eyes.
Keep them closed and drift
until you see those skies
that welcome you home;
that know you, know them
for me the crystal castles
the storm and the caverns
and the people
who though they are long gone
have left us many things,
but most of all the mazes
the cities that still sing
of lives lived there,
and the woods that whisper, too
I go now to my dreaming
and advise the same of you.
i remember thinking after i jotted it down, that it was inspired by (and therefore, for) everyone who ever inspired me to write.
and suffered from insomnia.
upon waking, at ten in the morning, with a headache for no discernible reason; i decided that last night's urge to go try and hunt down all of the people above and give them said poem was quite ridiculous.
trying to discern patterns in my writing, i have noted so far that humor seems to grab me in the morning (or whenever i wake up), and sentimental fluffiness when i try to go to sleep.
now, to try and work out last few chapters of the Ring story.
Dear Diary,
The Gollum almost rescued us!
It would have, too, except that the Sam and Frodo ganged up on it. Then they put elvish rope on it, the horrible things! It hurt the poor Gollum.
The Gollum can hear Master Sauron too; I heard him. Then, for one beautiful instant, Frodo was drawing on my power! But - but - he used it to make him obey! My poor old Gollum.
I'm getting to the wretched Hobbit, though.
They won't be safe for long, though. Awful, damned Hobbits. The Gollum is still inside that stupid Smeagol, and planning, yes he is.
i think maybe i'm slipping some, but that's what going back over the whole thing once it's finished is for.
