the smedley log - suburban scrawl

Dreaming of the sea

a steady gaze upon the door
like she’s forgotten what they use it for

I try to ask, but she’ll rebuke:
“You’re not from here, you’ll never get the view”

spending lifetimes afraid to flee
the self-made confines, dreaming of the sea

I had the thought, just like the rest
inside a moment far short of my best

too human not to tell her so
and deal in theory past the things we know

but consequence is far more real
than mere advisers ever have to feel

I should’ve listened, should’ve seen;
I should’ve let her linger in the dream.

I scribbled this one down last night, sort of stream of conscious, though, so don’t beat yourself (or me) up if it doesn’t make sense.

– just a little off-the-cuff material for someone I hardly know, another person I know well, and someone else I’m sure I should’ve known better.

not bad for something just poppin’ out of the consciousness stream. like the last line especially.

Thanks.

I’ve been sinking more and more into the habit of writing poems and editing them to death, so every once in a while I’m trying to step out on a limb and just post one without thinking too much about it.

Well done. Sharing art that hasn’t been “edited to death” is a very good idea. I love the process of creation, and there is something so magical about those early stages…fresh and full of possibilities.

I’m horrible at saving old drafts of what I write. So often the best versions get thrown away before I realize the harm that’s done by my editing. I’m not sure that would be the case with this one, but I wanted to post it while it was fresh. Thanks for responding, Kim!

Pretty and haunting words. Thanks for sharing them.