#prose

Destination Unknown.

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DESTINATION UNKNOWN.

LIFE’S JOURNEY?

NEEDS A QUESTION MARK.

DESTINATION?

UNKNOWN.

Wherever,

Whenever,

Whatever,

Whoever you choose.

Choose to follow your heart.

Go seek a self-love life song

Go write a self-life love song

Go feel a love-self life song

Where each day

You will never forget

Whichever you choose.

The words,

The tune,

The chords,

Or the beat.

They are all

After all

Each on each

An essential part

Of the bitter-sweet.

Mind switch the inner symphony

To ‘On’.

Let it load up

And then dance.

To your self written

Life’s rhythm.

Sing it to the sky

All arms akimbo.

Escape the prison

Of night.

Become an optical prism

To direct your inner wisdom

As rainbow light.

Rainbow light

As insight expanding.

Shining toward the outside

World.

Beautiful

Bright.

And somewhere down the road

If you meet yourself coming back

Don’t stop yourself

To ask yourself

‘What lies ahead?’

The excitement is in

Simply not knowing.

The journey is you.

Exploring the journey

Of your heart.

Heading for a new you.

Glowing.

So just…….

Keep…….

On…….

Going.

Destination?

Unknown.

16 thoughts on “Destination Unknown.”

    1. Thank you Friedrich. Much appreciated. It was written a while back, and this morning I added a few extra lines to try to polish it up. Poems and prose are nice excursions at times. Song lyrics have to be the focus now though. Songs to record and some to finish writing. So fun times ahead. All the best.

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    1. Good call cookie. I never noticed either. Maybe it simply happens subliminally when you write words and imagery leaps out, unknowingly, from those words. Arms outstretched is a WordPress photograph image I used on a blog. The guy is looking up to the night sky and the stars. Then Pink Floyd’s ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ album was thought about.

      Gathering up little scenarios is the way I tend to write. Like ‘Stop hiding in the corner in your tip-top hat, dreaming your back on the stage’ is myself sitting with a totally unsuitable hat, which was chosen for the future gig we were supposed to play last July. I suppose little stories come from just a couple of lyrical or poetic sentences. You write very similarly in noticing what is around you and delivering the stories as they present themselves. But you still allow the listener’s imagination to take those lines you write and run with their own story to follow through.

      It’s like projecting a single white beam of light into a prism which then allows the colours to flourish. ‘Lay down some colours on the black on white, and brighten up every page of your life’. That’s piano keys and songs produced. I suppose we both think outside the norm. Thank you for your input cookie. Priceless as always.

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    1. It was uploaded a fair while back in shorter form Sheila. I added to it this morning. I put the original into ‘draft status’ a while back. That’s where it will stay now. I never remember what I write in these excursions. So I do look back in ‘drafts’ to see if any old written pieces may give ideas for a song lyric. This doesn’t though. I like it for what it is. A bit of positivity. Thanks for the thumbs up Sheila. Much appreciated. All the best.

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      2. I wrote a bit of prose, rather than poetry, and then it dwindled when the music started happening. I have hundreds of blogs that really need managing. But no time to go through them and delete. I may save all the images onto the iPad and then transfer to my external hard drive. Be nice to save and download the blogs if possible. Cheers Sheila.

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      4. I am constantly surprised when I re-read my blogs as to how bad some are. Be good to just delete I think. And, yes, to the reading ambition. It’s been a poor year on my part in not reading regularly. I suppose it must be your scenario too. I actually thought you read a vast amount. But is that more akin to information content as opposed to literature maybe. Cheers Sheila.

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      5. Aww, you’re probably a bit harsh on your former posts, Gray. I have corrected most of my early blog posts over the years, but it seems I still learn things the more I write (and just feel some of my previous blogs aren’t so relevant).
        Yes, I read a lot. But to actually finish a book, I don’t do that often. I think I have only finished 3 books this year and probably 25% of another 3 or 4. I always have about a dozen in progress (mostly in my Kindle app on my iPhone). I read a lot of emails and journal articles.

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      6. I realise I write blogs quickly, have no re-read checks and simply post. On looking at them later down the line, they are quite thrown together scenarios. It’s just that my blogs are just like my journal writing style…..ad hoc. But it’s not something I am concerned about at all. I just write because it’s for cathartic aims.

        Reading is the same for me too Sheila. I never rember the stories. My lack of being able to create mind imagery means that, if I leave the books for a few days to a week before going back to continue…..I can’t remember the stories ‘so far’. I open up the page and start to read sentences that do not make sense because I have nothing to link them with from before. Basically, what happened before doesn’t exist with any clarity whatsoever.

        A really good book means one I can’t put down and read it in one or two days. I’m not a fast reader, so it is hours on hours of focusing for a few days. David Mitchell, Conan Doyle, Andrew Miller, Tolkein, Umberto Eco, Robertson Davies, Haruki Murakami, JK Rowling, Agatha Christie and Katherine May are my top faves. H G Wells too, but haven’t read his work in very many decades. All these authors write with such vibrancy, they truly capture the senses.

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      7. I’ve not read any books by the authors you mentioned except Tolkien. I’m a slow reader too, Gray. I did read Stephen King books years ago so I understand about how good authors can keep us engrossed enough to finish some books quickly. But I haven’t read fiction in decades. I love non-fiction and autobiographical stories. I am reading one right now based on the gentleman’s life. UK author, Michael Lefevre’s book, He Was Weird.

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    1. Thank you for your patience in reading through a few times. I tend to try that when I narrate the poems I read of other peoples’. Getting the timing right to the words presented is very cool. Cheers Destiny. 🙏🏽

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