Time to stop neglecting the site!

This blog is my oldest and original blog. I love it dearly, but it has low numbers, and I only seem to write in it on rare occasion. Time to change that. So, when I have nothing to say about my burgeoning writing career, I'll post pieces of some of my older writings here - sounds like fun, huh? Okay, first piece:

I wrote this way back in 1981 when I was in High School. I had recently discovered that I could write poetry (though my style and meter and such wasn't real good just yet), and this is one of my first offerings as a poet. If you look at it from the point of view of a poetry connoisseur, you will be sadly disappointed, but if you remember it was written by a kid just discovering poetry, it is magically entertaining, and wonderfully insightful. Well, anyway, I suppose it is safe to say this is a poem about my slight teenage paranoia at the time, and I suppose that would be typical considering I was 15.

WRONG DAY

I'm headed to the football field for the final game,
but somehow the field doesn't seem quite the same.
The lines on the field aren't straight and bright,
Instead they're crooked and faint and hardly white.
The grass is long when it should be short,
And a look around shows no one of the sort.
The crowd is missing to cheer the team on,
And the cheerleaders and teams are also gone.
the parking lot's empty and void of cars,
And the sky is darkening so I can watch the stars.
I see the mountainous horizon as the sun drops under,
And the loneliness makes me seriously wonder.
I came down to see the final game,
Shouldn't others come to do the same?
I remember being told the game was Friday,
Or am I wrong? What did the man say?
Or is it tomorrow? Yes, that sounds better,
Now I feel my face grow redder and redder!
It seems I've committed a memory crime,
For I've come down at the wrong time!
The day was long as was the night. . .
And don't you worry, tomorrow I'll get it right!

Notice that I erroneously state that a Varsity High School Game could actually be played on Saturday - perhaps I am wrong, but I don't recall that ever happening. The High School I went to was a three year high school so as a sophmore, it was my first year there, and I suppose I wasn't aware of the games always being Friday Night.

Hoped you found the poem fascinating, at least, and I'll offer a more recent sample of my writing tomorrow right here at Defender of the Blahs.