Wednesday, May 26, 2010
THE UNINSPIRED POST
This is the "I am not ashamed to have nothing in particular to write about" post. I am feet-out-of-my-sandals on the train and typing on my iPod, as I go home to layout the newsletter.
This post is uninspired not because I am uninspired but because there is not a theme here, a rhyme or a reason. I am just coming from meeting with my newest writers group, where someone Googled me and saw a poem that I wrote over twenty years ago. I barely write poetry now even though I bring the book in which I could write poems every day in my bag--maybe as a hope, a reminder or a memorial? I have not written a poem in such a long time. I was going to try to write a poem tonight, if I finish this post maybe I might try.
I remember when I used to chain write poems like some people chain smoke cigarettes. In my early twenties, I would sit in a cafe listening to Joni Mitchell's 'The Last Time I Saw Richard,' for example, writing a ton of poems, variations on the same things over and over. Every angle something I believed to be original, but it was the same thing over and over. At that time I did not need such heavy inspiration, I wrote what was in my heart, wrote because it was what I needed to do. Wrote because I could not not write.
The secret I do not even tell you
Who sees me like no one else ever gets to
My eyes on yours looking for the instruction in your
In your nothingness the
Plan the what will
I wait with bated breath
For the command
I decided just to experiment--whatever was inside me and not let it be blocked. Be inspired where I did not know there was inspiration. Maybe now I will carry the half empty book where I write poetry as a celebration instead of as a memorial.♥