Sometimes she worried that someone would hear all those mutterings and mumblings she mumbled and muttered to herself
Knowing they were growing louder and louder
Somehow she couldn’t stop herself
And one day she just screamed…
But, it was okay
Because,
nobody was listening
and no one listens to them
_________
*For Emily Dickinson
Lying here, feeling so high
As the clouds go drifting by
I dream my dreams and let them fly
Sending my prayers in flight like the dove
Where the clouds race so high above
Far from me and the strife below
Where we struggle as friend and foe
Far from this journey, where I fear to go
They say,
“Alone we are born, and alone we die”
And from this journey we cannot flee or hide
But we are not alone it seems
So this is why I dream my dreams
Sending prayers both night and day
I pray for wisdom to show me the way
And now with new dreams to soar and fly
I find myself here again, watching the sky
As the clouds go racing by
Robins building nests
As snow swirls on new blossoms
Clinging to my coat
Pink blooms opening
A swaying waltz in the breeze
As the sparrows sing
Searching the gray sky
Today
I just decided to look up
Step 1. Put on “Kind of blue” by Miles Davis
Step 2. Enter a euphoric state induced by an irresponsibly excessive amount of grandiose hyperbole, bongos and Irish coffee.
Step 3. Rant frantically a confused discharge of sensations, emotions, and disallusions until you reach the pinnacle of rhetorical zen.
Step 4. Write the first draft while staring out a window catatonicly for at least 4 hours.
Step 5. Let it rest knowing this is the greatest poem ever written since “Riot.”
Step 6. The next day, re-read your masterpiece and realize it’s terrible. You will never be Gwendolyn Brooks, and everyone will think you are insane.
Step 7. Alcohol! Let the wave of unfulfilled vision wash over you as you contemplate a life as a Munk in Tibet, or lighthouse keeper.
Step 8. Lighten up! The world does not need another Gwendolyn Brooks, she already did it perfectly. The world needs your voice. And if it doesn’t ….. repeat step 7. Oh and by the way everyone already knows you’re insane and your friends and family are OK with it…
Step 9. Write second draft just in time for the open mic at the electric brew.
Step 10. Still picking your poem apart… fall asleep attempting to read Ulysses.
Step 11. Wakeup in the middle of the night and write two new lines before slipping back to that dream where Cloris Leachman is teaching you how to grow vegetarian bacon in an aquarium.
Step 12. Write each line down on a note card so you can read/rewrite, read/rewrite, read/rewrite at least 150x until you are finally able to write the final draft.
And breath.
It is done.
Now
Wasn’t that simple
It’s the same window
Waiting, watching, in silence
As we all pass by
Snow and ice resolve
This is how we begin here
A dream and a plan
Under my bare feet
Rough words wear away like wood
As we turn to dust
BGeneric 