Dolly (Part 2)

This just a brain dump - for the next part of a story I have been working on for a while. Its the story of a man who's daughter dies, and he always feels like he killed her, due to circumstances. One day when I have time, I will tidy it up and join it all together :)

This is the the part I wrote earlier, which comes further down in the story:
Then End


the older i get,
with every passing day,
the more i skip back to my beginnings

there is a new determination
to be oblivious to forces from outside
stupid and pointless and dark
i want to live, more every day i progress towars the end of life
the more i recognise its inevitability
i could never do it
i love it to much
everyday, in all its madness and boredom or excitement
is dear and fun

and also, to do the things i want to
fill what remains with the best fruits of life

i like to laze on sunny afternoons
watch sun patterns on a stony ground
cloud shadows on rolling meadows
gulls with the sun on their wings
sunlight glinting on the water

i dont know or know that i belive in love
but there is this strange sense of wholeness
and peace, on everyday in the sun
like life has just begun

this too will pass
and soon
but i will not think about it today
tomorrow is another day


and part of me looks over my shoulder
the road, thank god, almost untouched
lonely, rocky, full of falls, and hard
and the beginning ...

clean, untouched, fearless
only full of questions
and chatter and words and laughter
and sunshine
eternal sunshine ...
short lived
but safe

then the fall of the mighty empire
and the people of the refuge, shipped back to their origins
exciting, beuatiful, tropical, cruel, harsh
self absorbed
or so it then seemed

whispered, half guilty confidences
about the ways of the world
and secret indiscretions
analytical comparisms
and first hand demos
a whole new world of pagan excess
every kind and direction explored
in the first decade or two of life,
i still found them amazing and perplexing ...
so new, so different
a whole new world
and then there are so many dimensions to the latch key world ...

yet, in a way, we grew in the same garden
our first impressions and lessons, came from the same school
quaint, adventurous, 'different', but clean, wholesome, loving
then how did we turn out so different?
is it the seeds that matter? hers first hand, mine second ...

in the twisted of my lot
first came the artificial
then the real
first true and logical, then crazy and unpredictable
first kind, then harsh

unlike my role model, the little princess
i floundered for so long ...

so in my turn i tried to save the next edition
pack, isolate, separate
but its hard
the wild and the dark world has a beautiful face
and a fatal attraction
or maybe the dark stranger was right
the fatal flaw is in encoded in the seed

now we must decide ...
is it vital or fatal, to pass the baton on
is the madness in the hands of the he who last carries it,
in which case, we could work to wipe it clean,
or is it in the burning torch
which then, must be safely extinguished, destroyed, and the world made a better place


  1. am bewildered, not sure how the stories tie in, this latest one is free verse, the link is prose though there is the wanting to go back to the beginnings and make it all right thread that runs through them. Will wait to see how this turns out.

  2. Nice. Beautifully written.


  3. "the older i get,
    with every passing day,
    the more i skip back to my beginnings"

    You caught me there. But like Shreemoyee I have the same question, did not understand how the story fits in.

    But, they say with getting older, your memory fails but somehow I always wonder we start remembering things more, more things from the past.