quiet the mind
just enough to hear the important thoughts/
the creative thoughts/
the thoughts that are often drowned out
by anxiety rambling
and existential depression blues
there may be creative moments
inside those diatribes
but i’ve heard enough of them to know —
it’s getting past them
that the true me
lies
[in truth]
trying to writing
to finish the thinking
to begin the day
and continuing
and continuing
starting
from finishing
from ending —
a beginning
gibberish poems
can become
gibberish songs
which may be
exactly what i need to do
in order to stop me
from overanalyzing
and overjudging
and overscrutinizing
my own creativity
creativity streams from me
from my fingertips to a computer screen
from my acting choices to an audience’s eyes
from my body on a circus apparatus
and i feel
almost
creative
i don’t actually know what it means
to be
a great writer
a great poet
i’m just sitting here
at my messy dinner table
early in the morning
writing whatever comes to mind
as a way to encourage myself
to deal with the day
that is coming towards me
at breakneck speed
maybe,
when you’re in your ‘fighting a [seemingly] losing war
against fascism with the best tool you have —
kindness’ era
you’ll understand
~~~
i feel like this kind of morning
and this kind of writing
is the reason i started this challenge to begin with
i feel more awake
more aware
more ready to start my day
though i still need to edit and pick and send in the audition
i feel so much more prepared for it
now
~~~
“you look like such a writer!”
of my big sweater
comfy tee
glasses
bun
and coffee in hand
and i do, don’t i?
i do…
creation mixes magic
with science
and i think you’ll find
we’re all adept
at both
[if we just believe]
in photography, i have no problem
taking tens
of hundreds
of thousands of photos
knowing that somewhere in there,
there will be a great picture —
gorgeous
experimental
framed well
captured beautifully
and composition, exquisite
and even in poetry, mornings of multitudes,
all my poems
multiple
every morning, i know
not every poem will be great
but somewhere in here
there may be something
to write home about
then why oh why do i shy away from
the writing of prose/novels/
or plays?
as if i need my first try to be
so great
otherwise i should just
give
up
?
is it simply that it takes so much longer to write
longer form, than it does to slap dash down a poem
or capture a second or few
in a non-moving image?
so the effort to output
ratio feels more
[risky]
[or am i so scared of something more/or less scary?]
one of the best poems i ever read
was a poem that insisted
it was not
a poem
and if that’s not a metaphor for something
then i’m not some kind of a poet
create
creativity
or you’ll die from
lacking
a human need
build a concept
from words and stanzas,
make it stand like the structure of a house
but the house still needs full walls and floors and a roof to keep it dry
so decide:
are the walls paragraphs of a story?
is the foundation actually one a play can stand upon?
or will the covering shelter end up being a whole novel?
or will it stay a poem forever?
only reviewing and editing can do that —
but only writing the first few words
will give you the skeleton
to build upon
kipventures 