A collection of 25 word short poemettes that were inspired by something; or they are simply petals fallen from the rose, clipped from the thorns.
Sometimes 120 seconds to jot, sometimes an hour to write, sometimes years to finish… but I never completely understand a single one of these poems.
With mere seconds to write, a poem then becomes a slow growing youth; whenever I reread my own, it needs more guidance, pruning, allegorical fine-tuning.
In my mind, the pen gets in the way. Poetry is really, for me, finding the shortest possible distance from my heart to the keyboard.
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Recent Comments
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Meta
thank you for sharing….its the divine element within our psych, the energy which enfolds us, and these feelings and thoughts are penned within seconds. We do not worry about editing, grammar, etc… it comes directly from our soul, our authentic self… the true us… Something given to all human beings, however only few dare to resist the status quo, allowing their true selves to show through the masks we wear….
It takes no time, to pen and send the message necessary, for the world to hear or read. Three years I took part in a writers retreat in Kamloops B.C. offered by Richard Wagamese, an Ojibway aboriginal storyteller and acclaimed author in Canada. The five days was magical as we experienced the ” channel” as Richard explained . After smudging and giving gratitude, we would welcome our angels and guides to join us for the day. Very powerful !! thank you so much for sharing Skip… much appreciated..
I so understand. When I am improvising piano music, when i sit down at my piano, I have no idea what is going to come out. All I have is the way I’m feeling. I hit the record button and just play. I might listen through it once but I usually let it sit for a day or two before I play it back because if want to hear it as other people will hear it and try not to have a prejudiced mind. sometimes I think, “ok, not bad” and at other times I sit there dumbfounded. “Did I just play that? That is what happened on this last piece I recorded that I told you where to find. I don’t know how it affects other people, we are all in a different state of mind if we hear it, but the combinations of the sounds I heard were exactly what I was feeling, pain, and trying to reconcile that pain. Where in my head it connected with my fingers to play the emotion I felt inside.
In my younger years I was told I was going to be the next Stevie Nicks ( that dates me!) I spent a lot of years playing and singing professionally. I don’t sing anymore. I ruined my vocal cords. I think i did as much cocaine as she did. Well, maybe she did more – they had a lot more money than I had. lol. But when you use your talent like that for reasons of ego – because you want to be famous i think it rarely works. I had to nearly die waiting for a liver transplant ( yes, from drugs in my 20’s) before my real music started. Not the music that belonged to anyone else – it was mine. We, as artists, if we live through the experience, are more able to translate these ideas in our head to the outside for others to see, hear, feel, even if they don’t feel it exactly as we did. Most artists don’t do their art because it all comes from a happy place. Not that it can’t, but most people aren’t aware of their emotions until they feel pain. How do you know happiness without knowing pain?
Sonni thank you for sharing… they all come from our heart, our soul …. 😉 its magical, with rhythm…
Jean – you understand, too.
Jean said, as you say… “when I sit down at my piano (at the console of my creative expression) I. Have. No, Idea.” we simply, beam out the rays of light and darkness and open up to whatever comes in. Yet we are guided by our intentions, the mystics say, “…deeds are [a result] only of the intentions [of the actor], and an individual is [rewarded] only according to that which he intends…” There can be no artistic arrangement, that isn’t already within us. A sculptor releases the form within the block of marble – clearing away all this isn’t of that form. We are blocks of marble, we are the artist that manifests the works of the true Creator. We are all these…
So if I see Sonni, when she was in her younger and more restless years… will I be the creator and the artist within the friend of Truth… and see her “true form” within the marble. The one thing greater than and “idea” is an “intention.” Inspiration is everywhere… yet I have no idea where!
Rumi tells a story about a padishah on horseback, galloping from village to village crying, “Where is my horse, has anyone seen where my horse is?!” The people would frantically offer, “But sir, what are you talking about, your horse is underneath you!” To which the padishah replied, “Yes, yes… but WHERE is my HORSE?”
Jean your kind comments and insights mean so much. thank you.
Skip you’re very welcome… keep up the amazing work… <3