Category Archives: Peter’s Writings

Things Peter writes for his own benefit, not necessarily intended for or made available to the general public.

Quicksand

It looked firm as I stepped forward
Believing then in solid ground
It gave away and pulled me in
Yielding with a sucking sound

Struggle only pulls me deeper
Suffocation in the wings
Standing frozen cannot save me
Without aid from other things

No one seems to see or hear me
As I draw closer to death
Sinking slowly ever deeper
Anticipating my last breath.

Blank

I sat to write from deep inside
To plumb the depths down in my mind
To analyze what festers there
Then sort it out and solace find

But looking in and peering 'round
Find jumbled masses in a rage
Each voice insisting it's the one
Demanding freedom from this cage

Retreat with haste and turn the key
No wiser than I was before
Close me up with bolt and lock
Scared to e're reopen that door

Cyclical

Drive to be productive,
Time to be creative,
Focus to be innovative.

Success that pushes forward,
Progressing toward complete,
Till the vision is realized.

And now it stands finished,
But no one but me cares to see -
My voice doesn't matter here.

Creation stalls out cold,
Wasted work mocks new hope,
And shouts it's nothing new.

Rejection

(2018) I just received my first rejection letter from a queried literary agent.  Milestone achieved.  Now, the wait to see if there are any who think my attempt at a novel could possibly be profitable.

(January 2019):  Make that three, and the time has elapsed where I’m extremely unlikely to hear back from any of the others. Looks like a failed attempt all around. I guess I just overestimated my ability. 

(October 2019): I decided to submit to a new list of potential agents. Same result as before. A few summary rejections. The rest was silence. I’m giving up on … Read the rest

The view

I have been to the mountain
And seen through the crystalline air
The valley below shrouded in fog
And the goal that lies just beyond
 
I have wandered the paths of the valley 
Groping through gray of the mists
Feeling for wayposts and markers
Hoping to progess without knowing how
 
I can stand above and know the way
Or go below and press the path
But never both.

Stuck

About a year ago, I started writing a story after a strong impression. It wasn’t a particularly happy story – it was a story that was initially meant to condemn the blood-lust and military adventurism that has characterized American politics for the last 80ish years. As I put the pieces together, it gelled around a protagonist who experienced some of the darkest aspects of conflict. I found writing it to be very difficult. However, I kept writing it as a means of sharing emotions and difficulties I couldn’t share otherwise. It was a sensationalized and amplified retelling of stuff I … Read the rest

Plans

Purposeless motion is chaos
That ends right where it began
Wasting both time and effort
When expended without any plan

Planning gives sense of direction
Providing a goal to achieve
Setting a clear objective
And something in which to believe

But plans have a transient nature
That shift with the altering tides
Changing the traveled direction
Till my plans and future collide

And the end point I had longed for
Falls victim to what must be
So sadly I concede defeat
And forcefully subjugate me

Meditation

Clear and open my mind I'm told
But nature abhors a vacuum
It refills faster than I can empty
Flitting from thought to thought
As I banish them one by one

Grab a meditative thought
A gurgling stream to fill the void
But it won't remain without effort
So I fill in the cracks and crevices
With thoughts that defeat the purpose

Meditation is deliberate boredom
I don't know how to do that...
I seemingly never really can
Shut my mind to constant work
Without falling asleep