Ode to Steak

There comes a point in time in every writer's life when they're just not feeling it. And when that happens, it's up to the writer to fall back, to regroup, to get in touch with what really moves them. For me, that's steak. Sweet, delicious comfort and luxury all in one. There's nothing better for the soul, really, than to find what Rogers your Hammerstein and go with it. Too many people forget that, and that's a damn shame.


Ode to Steak

I ate a steak today. It was delicious.
Lusty lines of fat embraced the meat;
Age had made it tender, ripe, ambitious,
Ready - no, salacious for the heat.
A dash of salt, a coat of pepper ground,
and oh! What sacred scent I did endure.
Scent led to taste, and what a taste profound -
Say what you will, that moment's joy was pure.

So let you vaunted versists squawk your lines,
Your love and loss, your mountain's majesties.
Love fades to bore, loss whimpers to a whine,
and mountains never mattered much to me.
Thrust your sweaty loins until you ache,
I'll keep my simple pleasures. Give me steak.

This

I... y'know, every once in a while, I write something I can't explain. It's a mood thing. There's little relevant here, but... eh, whatever. It feels like it echoes through a lot of things that are going on right now.


This

I don't want to do this.
I'm tired. I'm so tired.
The words are uninspired.
I don't want to do this.
Tired. I don't want this.
Force the act, for what?
It's useless. In a rut.
Tired. I don't want this.
It hurts me to do this.
Nothing makes the cut.
Nothing is required.
Done. Now seal it shut.
Forget what's transpired.
I didn't want to do this.

I'll Hold You Now

I was thinking the other day how much I missed writing other forms of formal poetry. The villanelle, for example, is just so much fun to compose. It's a typically light-hearted form based on repetition and I usually love writing them, but between my internship and all these sonnets, I just don't have the time to play around with other forms.

Or do I?

What's to keep us from hybridizing forms? Heck, I did it a few weeks ago with the ballad form in Rise of Ace, why can't I do it with a villanelle?


I'll Hold You Now

I wanted something beautiful to hold,
but beauty is a thing that cannot stay.
Not one of us can ever be so bold.

Oh, how I tried! A night out in the cold,
my arms around you shamed the warmth of day.
And that was something beautiful to hold.

But time is time, and time makes beauty old,
and oldness led to time you spent astray.
And stray you did. You ever were so bold.

Your throat was clay; my hands became the mold,
I shaped you still, the flush of my dismay.
And still you were, so beautiful to hold.

You, my love, are beautiful to hold.
I'll hold you now, if I may be so bold.


Man, I love how a simple comma can change the entire meaning of a line. For those of you who think punctuation's for nerds, up yours.

Sorry, Guys.

What with moving and everything, I don't have internet until Wednesday. So take a break, kiddies, and rest assured that I'll be back next week.