River Tam unleashed.


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DEATH

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THIS BLOG POST MAY NOT BE AS MORBID AS THE TITLE MIGHT SUGGEST. ALTHOUGH IT MIGHT. I SUPPOSE IT COULD DEPEND ON YOUR POINT OF VIEW. I love death. Not the twisted arms and legs, torso cut into pieces, struck down by a heart attack, kind of death, but a particular character in a series of books by a now ( sadly ) deceased author. And if you haven't figured it out, his name was Terry Pratchett. But this isn't really about Sir Pterry, or even Discworld. Its about appropriation. I didn't mean to steal this character, and two others ( The death of Rats, and Quoth the raven he rides on ) for my own nefarious ends. It happened some years ago, sort of by accident. Few people can fail to have encountered those posters who, WRITE IN ALL CAPS, NO MATTER WHAT THE TOPIC. Usually making statements and claims one thinks are, lets say 'odd'. ( Or.. flying mammal poo bonkers ) And I am no exception. And every time I have, the first thought in my head was of Sir Pterr
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Biker secret.

Things move in the depths, Strange things, odd things. Things without names Things without form Thoughts Ephemeral Dreams cast upon winds Time drawn in the hollows. Memories. Beauty on two wheels. I rode with him. Arms holding him, Feeling he was mine, Relishing every moment Wind in my hair, Alone with him, On the road. The two of us Together. And then it would end. at my own door. Stepping off the bike. Handing him back His spare helmet. I say "thanks" His beautiful face Smiles at me I melt, If only.. "No problem mate," he says. I smile back. He puts down his visor, That big engine revvs, He turns And is gone Sooner than it takes to write it. And I know soon, Other arms will circle him, On the open road. Arms he will seek For affection and more. And I know I can never have him. And I hide sorrow behind my eyes, As I say Hi To family, Who must not see, A love I cannot tell. And later alone, I weep silently u
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