Jonathan Livingston Seagull

“They are saying in the Flock that if you are not the Son of the Great Gull Himself”, Fletcher told Jonathan one morning after Advanced Speed Practice, “then you are a thousand years ahead of your time.”
Jonathan sighed. The price of being misunderstood he thought. They call you devil or they call you god. “What do you think, Fletch? Are we ahead of our time?”
A long silence, “Well, this kind of flying has always been here to be learned by anyone who wanted to discover it; that’s got nothing to do with time. We’re ahead of the fashion, maybe. Ahead of the way that most gulls fly.”“That’s something,” Jonathan said, rolling to glide inverted for a while. “That’s not half as bad as being ahead of our time”.
Richard Bach
Jonathan Livingston Seagull

The Seagull Speaks Creative Commons Copyright

Creative Commons License
Original work on The Seagull Speaks by Michael A Wride is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Monday, April 19, 2010

The Hollow Man

Written sometime 1987-1990.

The hollow man slept,

On a table,
In a room blackened by time.

A dim lamp shone in a corner,
A star,
The sun,
Penetrating the darkness,
Through black grime of thoughts,
The thoughts within the mind of a boy,
Who knelt at the foot of the bed.

The boy wept and shook his head,
"Can it be true that my father is dead"?

Who is the Hollow Man in the darkness? Is it me or my Father?... who when I wrote this was alive, but is now no longer with us....another early poem wrestling with death and darkness. 

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