His Lordship

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I’m Jason L. Secrest, an aspiring author and impoverished college student. Sometimes I blog. When I’m being real about real world things that other people also believe are real I post at wiseyetharmless.bogspot.com. Then there are the moments that I’m also being real, but in regards to a different real world where there is a real annoying talking demon in my basement and where my non-fake butler/valet/gentleman’s-gentleman knows Jujutsu. In those moment’s I’m Jason L. Secrest, Lord of the Manor, and I blog directly to you from my mansion study at whathowadsworth.blogspot.com.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Nothings - AKA "Beezel's Poetry"

Beezle and I have history. I found a piece of it sitting on my desk today - a little scrap of paper that once floated to me from an air duct in the mansion house. It read as follows:

" Poetry; Airy Nothings - definitely not hints or riddles for anyone in particular.

never did I think that with
orwell at the helm the ship would sink
tall gardens rise, planted far below
how ponderously their tendrils sway
i sway with them, finding peace in their shadow
nothing of life keeping
grasp adequate upon me
so goes another soul to Davy Jones."

I'm not so sure that Beezle has ever been a good poet. I'm not so sure that he's written much of it. This was the first occasion on which I encountered Beezle's musings. While I didn't find his work exceptional, I didn't think it was horribly bad either, and I was pleased that Beezle was writing about souls instead of taking them. I set it aside and forgot about it until later. I should have known better. I don't have time to tell the full story at the moment, but I thought the poem might be interesting for you to ponder on until I do.

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