Due to my overactive imagination, there are some days when I have thousands of ideas for blog entries, article pitches, and stories. In the literary world, this is a blessing–but lately, it doesn’t feel that way. Call it procrastination or laziness if you must, but it doesn’t change the fact that I often feel frustrated and overwhelmed because I have no idea where to start.
When I do write, it’s even harder to tune out my inner editor or keep myself from cringing when I read past publications. As I am sure you can imagine, this strips writing of its joy–the very thing that made me want to write in the first place.
This week has been rough. I originally planned to write a post regarding the shootings… but when I sat down to write, I went to poetry instead. It has been so long since I have written a poem–I almost forgot how wonderful and comforting poems can be.
I decided that this is the best home for it. Consider it a prayer for all of us.
i am
a poet,
or maybe an artist.
(it doesn’t matter.
call me whatever you think
sounds more romantic.)
i am
a dreamer
a starry-eyed wordsmith.
(i think
‘starry-eyed wordsmith’
sounds more romantic
than ‘wannabe writer.’)
on a typical day,
i agonize over everything important
and potentially pretentious,
like oxford commas
or blog aesthetics.
(is that witty enough for twitter?)
but one extraordinary day,
the smell of ink will
overpower that of gunpowder.
(and maybe stories
will save the world.)
my god,
what an anomaly that will be.
(no one told me
that it takes such courage
to write.)
Have a lovely weekend, my friends. ❤ May you always create whatever brings you joy.
