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Morbid Whimsy

I can’t keep avoiding the need to write new material much longer… I just hate to begin something and not have time to really dig in.  To begin creating a world and the lives to fill it up, only to have to abandon it and the characters for indefinite periods of time is difficult for me- separation anxiety or something.  It’s like I’m afraid of what they might do without my supervision, and I’ll miss them.  Yeah, I’m well aware of how crazy that sounds, and I’m ok with it.  If I could, I’d lock myself away for days to write out a good story.  Instead, I spend days writing out lesson plans and essential questions (if you’re not a Learning Focused teacher, don’t ask)…

So, just for the sake of posting something different from the string of recent serious posts, I’m sharing another old poem of mine.  My mom and sister (mostly my sister) used to tease me because of all the depressing poetry I would write.  But hey, I was in high school.  Anyway, this poem comes off as a bit morbid, but I had fun writing it, because it wasn’t really serious at all.  Well, you’ll have to read what I mean…

My Death by Terree L. Klaes

I died while walking

on the beach one night,

In the chilling cool water,

and the shimmering moonlight.

My body sank deeply

into the sand,

With nothing exposed,

not even a hand.

My corpse quickly

was engulfed by waves.

And I was sure my body

would not be found for days.

But then slowly I opened

my eyes to see…

I had simply fallen asleep

next to the sea.



About caverns of my mind


One response »

  1. Writing is like an addiction, isn’t it? I really do get withdrawal symptoms if I go too long without creating something new. Go with it, the motivation will create itself.


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