one word to get across the finish line
of a word count goal
that is all mine
and i did it
just for me
just for me
one word to get across the finish line
of a word count goal
that is all mine
and i did it
just for me
just for me
if i write of the sunlight
the sounds outside
the playlist and the air outright
is that disingenuous to myself?
not feeling the morning page poetry
this morning
but that doesn’t mean
i won’t do it
i mean
i continue to do this
every
single
morning
whether i’m in the mood or not
just to have something to do
just to have a habit to latch onto
just to have some proof
to say
‘i was here, i had thoughts and feelings and insights, too’
and maybe someone will read them soon
and maybe someone will read them in hundreds of years
and maybe
because they’re all digital
they’ll disappear into the ether
but
maybe the ether will get a kick out of all these poems
and they and the void can talk about me
behind my back
when i’m long long long gone
vibing
with music
but not with
writing
[the plight of the creative
with too many outlets]
write what you know
and then write it a little farther away
using metaphor
or simile
or narrative tactics
that make it seem
like it may not be about your life
at least not completely
but we all know
we all know
every writer carries hundreds
if not thousands
if not millions or billions or trillions of
selves
with them at all times
[or is that just every human
as we live and grow and change and morph
into each of our
many
many
many
final forms]
waking up from a wild dream
with ideas for a story
but honestly, once fully awake,
there are far more questions about this concept
than an initial start to writing
but i suppose i’ll just have to see
what it may become
eventually
by writing it
do i have writer’s block
or does writer’s block have me
in a chokehold
from which i’ll never be released
do i have writer’s block
or is writer’s block my best frenemy
stalking me
fighting
and making up
and i keep them around for…
…for what?
do i have writer’s block
or is my whole life a lie
based on wanting to write
but never knowing how or when or why
or even if i really should
so i just
rush back
into writer’s block’s arms
do i have writer’s block
or are these excuses
to keep me from writing out
my whole soul?
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]
sometimes you just gotta end
a poem
when it decides it’s time
to end
sometimes
i need to remind myself
that i needn’t set out to change minds
when i write from my own soul
no certain goal in my mind
that’s when others’ are impacted
and yes, sometimes, changed
[but what if the mind i need to change
is my own?]