I sat down to write about writing
But it doesn’t want to be written about today
Out of pride, out of malice, out of hope
That I might dedicate this time to something else
Or is that me?
Definitely me
The universe never rushes
So this pounding in my chest
The only sensation that feels real
Is fake
I make it up so I have something to do
I’m a two
An Enneagram 2
We often feel that nothing is for real unless it’s done or being done
So even though I meant to write about writing
I’m writing this poem
Because at least I’ll have published a blog post in the month of May
I’m probably tired of looking at periods
They’re all I see these days
I used to end sentences in exclamation points
But I’m not seven anymore
And my dad once told me that he uses three exclamation points
A year
And I trust him
So now I use periods
And I just didn’t feel like it today
Free verse poetry is the worst because you can’t get it wrong
So you can’t get it right
We like rules, don’t we?
Like how every third Saturday I have to fertilize my wildflowers or
I don’t know actually
Probably nothing would happen if I didn’t
So I’m reading the new Hunger Games
And I know a lot of us were concerned because LATE PREQUEL
But I love prequels
Danger in the Shadows and Fairest and The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict
So I’ve been waiting
And in case you’ve been wondering
It’s worth every minute
Dive in
I’m also tackling my first monster-book of the year
The Brothers Karamazov
Because pandemic time is basically like throwing time away
Altogether
So 837 pages of classic Russian literature
Suddenly looks way sexier than it used to
This season is about patience
I’ve known it for a while
When everything goes to hell
I inevitably assign a meaning to it
So there it is
I suck at patience almost as much as I suck at going with my gut
Which is actually not as sucky as it used to be
I love that
I learned it from the flowers I fertilize every third Saturday
They’re so steady, so unbothered
Every time I look at them, I know the best is yet to come
I kind of thought balance would look different than this
Free verse poetry & patience
Bleh
But it feels good to write the words down and not build them up
You can’t punch up words from your heart
Because then they’re just fancy words from your brain
So do a dance
Or sing a song
Or plant some flowers
We all need a break from the break
To feel alive and well
“I am here, and I am alive.”
Period
That’s what I said to myself this afternoon
Because in the midst of uncertainty and devastation
All we have is breath
Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash
Trackbacks/Pingbacks