The Rhymes I Wrote

It was ten years ago I started adding those little rhymes into a small A5 notebook, all spurred on by the ending of a ridiculous teenage crush. And while what brought pen to paper was significant enough, it all paled in comparison when compared to the impact these words would have over the following decade.

There are some, which are discarded, only to be found in their original form. And what remains is a collection of nearly three hundred, which I would be happy with people seeing.

And yet, while there is some lines in the collection that work like they were written by a genius, there are a lot that don’t. I just sit down and write them, and see where it leads me.

I do have this one feeling however, if I actually look hard at my technique, improve my ability to train the eye on everyday things - then I could actually publish something.

A lot of what I write is personal. I I realise that any problems I have had in my life are minuscule in comparison to those of some people. But they’re my problems, and I have to deal with them somehow.

Strange. I can remember listening to Wagner’s Tannhäuser, lying beside the radiator. The old dark coral blue carpet, and putting the finishing touches to the second little book I wrote, ‘The Resurrection’.

I really should do something with them. I really should try and write stuff the way I did for me. These little words were their to help me. And if indeed I do have any gifts or talents, then I think I know.