Writings in the Sand

In Which I Offer Awkward Explanations

If I had to describe myself in one word, that word would be: awkward.

I am awkward in every way. I am socially awkward. I am physically awkward. I have an awkward sense of humor. I say awkward truths in front of people in authority. I hold awkward opinions. And if there is a way to do the normal thing in an awkward manner, I am driven to do it.

A few years back, on another writing site that has since disappeared from the interwebs, there was a challenge to write a series of romantic poems based on specific prompts. I think I was already growing weary of this site, for I set out to write poems of great longing and desire, all of which included fish.

I wrote poems full of carp and goldfish, all sorts of fish - even angler fish, the kind with a bio-luminescent dangly bit with which they lure other sea life to their mouths full of jagged, sharp teeth.

Why fish? Because I was being awkward and daring people to smell what my poetry was made of. Hold your nose, here's a sample:

I miss something, when you’ve turned out the light
that I should see. But my eyes, unaccustomed
In the dark, know the uselessness of sight.
Hooded, I perceive only love’s phantoms.

You’re the angler fish in my ocean deep
In my inky, sunless depths, you were light.
I lie awake, wondering, while you sleep
Where is that which drew me, that future bright?

Was I that hapless creature in the dark,
Knowing only a life of rayless gloom?
Who fearlessly swam to your dangling spark,
And in pursuit of your sun, was consumed?

Yes, There is something wrong with me. Just today I wrote a poem to a prompt that required that I use 5 words all starting with the same letter. I used 5 words starting with a silent letter. Was that just to be awkward? No, not really. I thought it would be fun and a challenge, which shows you that I have an awkward definition of “fun”.

I suppose that being awkward is my way of daring the world to understand me in my most individualistic moments of philosophical whimsy. I don’t recommend it, though. As a wise squirrel once said: "That trick never works, Bullwinkle".