sometimes
when i don’t know what to write
i’ll just lightly tap my fingertips
against the keyboard
i don’t press any of the buttons down
it’s not to make any sort of mark
on the electronic page
rather
i’m trying to shake creativity loose
from my fingers, hands, arms,
body —
i’m trying to rain down onto the keyboard
and maybe one of these puddles
will create words
that i can splash into
and from which
i can start
a poem
i feel at odds
with my own creativity
with my own wants and needs
with my own life as i’m living it
amongst people
everything feels so fallible
so ephemeral
and i suppose it all is
it’s just, there might be some time
before all the skills and abilities
and friends and life
leaves us
so we might as well have fun while we can
[rather than worrying ourselves
into complete stagnancy]
still on the high from the retreat
trying to connect with my own creative vibe
outside of all the wonderful folks
i got to know
over three long/short days
i think [my] lesson of the retreat is:
everyone has such different methods of storytelling
and modes of writing
and even within one person there are
worlds and citizens and characters and genres
and everyone listening is so, so supportive
i think i may be able to bring something
next year
[better start writing/planning
now!]
[and that is the first time that has felt exciting
and daunting
rather than daunting and a laborious struggle]
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]
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
kipventures 