i wish i could be
creatively consistent
with rhyme scheme
but as it stands now, the found moments
hit well
but any effort at keeping it up
sound contrived
and like a five-year-old thought it up
and while that may be fine for some
i think i need to stay doing what i do best
for the sake of getting
all my words
out
so
perhaps someday, i’ll write in true verse
but today
[and tomorrow
and all the next few/many mornings
of morning page poetry]
i’ll stick to free-form
pondering
teaching
directing
improvising
trying new things
[and not too new new things]
and still
maybe
sewing
and writing
and reading
and playing
and flying
and learning
and living
writing for aeons and aeons
just to find a concept i’d
never attempted
to understand
feeling disenchanted
with words
my drive to churn out
poetry
or prose
has been quelled by the concept of
more interpretative media
music?
painting?
cake decorating?
what will my next endeavor be?
[and will i still come back to poetry
every morning]
[i mean, i haven’t stopped in literal years,
so probably]
the pain in my arm
has never harmed me
in the air
this bothersome little
strain
on the tendon
is only ever annoying
when writing
or scrolling
or holding
or driving
it never affects me while flying
which is nice
but
it does make me think that
my bod just wants to be a circus performer
and nothing else
nothing
“normal”
at least
interesting
how i’m experiencing a page-turner
of a story
i want to imbibe
that is being created in my mind
but the only way to find
what truly happens
is when i commit
and write
even when i plan ahead of time
i have no idea where this story
is actually going
guess i have to write
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]
perhaps
in order to avoid the trappings
of first-time writings
[the “mary sue” the self-insertion
the romanticized tragedy
the not-flawed-enough protagonists
and too-flawed antagonists
and cursorily researched science
and all things i’d judge or freeze stagnant
when viewing in my own writing]
i simply need to go after them,
on purpose even,
and indulge.
kipventures 