Poetry isn't a Choice
"The problem with deciding to be a Poet is realizing you’ll wind up  broke, drunk or both and you’ll probably die in obscurity. If you learn  this and still decide to be a Poet, then congratulations, and I’m  sorry.”

I wrote this when I was uncertain of what and where I  was going. I was out of work and disabled. I couldn’t work because of  my physical limitations and severe depression. At that point, I was  getting back into writing and I was looking back at the poetry I had  written, when I came to a conscious decision (or I should say I  realized) that Poetry was the thing that moved me, that formed in my  brain and forced itself out into the world. Poetry is not work, it’s not  a job, it’s a calling, it’s the Universe speaking through me. Some  people will say I’m being pretentious with that statement, but really  I’m just being honest; some poems feel like they come fully formed, and  seem to almost write themselves onto my screen. These seem to take  anywhere from minutes to hours, but they come out fully formed and I am  awed by this.

Then there are those that feel like this…

“When I say wrote a poem, think of it as Wesley saying “As You Wish”  to Buttercup, whereas he meant “I love you”, when I say “I wrote a poem”  it’s closer in meaning to “I ripped out a piece of my soul, dipped my  metaphorical quill into the blood dripping from my open veins, wrote  pain, love, and fire into being etching with one upon the other and then  shared it with the Universal Consciousness” or at least, that’s what it  feels like.”

… and that is the painful part of creation. An example of this is the  poem I just wrote, Human Up, my WordPad program stayed open for days  with me writing and deleting, shaking my head, talking to myself, saying  “no, that doesn’t work” or “that’s cool, but doesn’t fit”. Shutting my  computer with the blank WordPad screen still open in the background,  until the words started to come to me and I was happy with what was  coming. Human Up was born of this painful time-consuming process.

Sometimes creation is easy and sometimes it’s hard, but whatever  comes of it, it’s worth the journey, but that’s not the end. Then I  release out into the World, to be poked and prodded, critiqued and  criticized, liked and loved, and ignored. The thing is, I don’t write  these for anyone else, I write them for me because they need to come  out.

I hope you decide to come along on this journey with me, as I  try to make sense of who I am, what my place is in the Universe, and  pour my thoughts and feelings into the world for you to see and,  hopefully, connect with.

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