A Creative Writing Experiment About Nothing

writing

I will write about nothing. Nothing is what I will write about, but what is nothing except the lack of what you want to be. Perhaps I will write about everything instead of the nothingness that I run from.  The nothing that is dark and cold from lack of heat and light. Why would I write about the things that could be considered nothing. Nothing is in fact nothing that I want to write. I will not write about nothing. Nothing is not what I will write about, but I will write about everything instead.

Yes, I will write about everything in my mind. I will jot down notes about  my phone turning off, if only for the night, about conversations with groups of friends, and about people being bagels in a tired mind’s dreams.  I will think about what I write as the words are typed, not wishing to edit the words on the screen. I will only write and write I will. Yes, I will write about everything in my mind.

Let me fly away on the great big plane that is called my mine, so that I can dream about all the lovely things that come from the nothing being left behind. Who left this nothing, this hole for me to find and can I fill it up again with all the things that it lacks. I will shine the light of consciousness in the dark corners to go exploring into the depths of the unknown, like caves in a familiar mountain that was always left alone. I will fill the holes up with my thoughts, with ideas of love and of what I believe about being home.

I will write about nothing. Yes, I will write about everything in my mind, so let me fly away on the great big plane that is called my mind.

I'll wait (A Poem about writing)

poetry

I will wait
for inspiration to come
for thought to appear,
like a word bubble from my head.

I will wait
until my mind is ready
and my brain turns on,
like a computer booting up.

I will wait
until I am ready
until my body tells me
it is time to write.

Then when patience
is no longer needed
and inspiration comes
I will write.
I will write whatever
my mind tells me to write,
my brain whispers to my fingers,
and what is scribbled
in the thought bubble above my head.

When I know what to write
I will ready my body
unleash my mind
and write,
but until then
I will wait.

 Sometimes you need to wait other times you just need to write. This of course is a combination of both. I needed to write as I waited.

What to do? (A Poem after a mishap)

poetry
What do I do?
sit in anger
in grief
waiting and watching
the ball of angry twine tighten?

What do I do?
Scream and shout
about the beauty that was lost
wallowing in my heart
about how it was unfair?

What do I do?
Watch my soul grow dark
and my heart breaks

What do I do?
I write
pushing off the anger
wiping clean the screams
that want to creep out.
I turn the light of my soul
to shine bright
and move on.

What do I do?
I continue on
I laugh at the poem that comes out
and smile
I get to write even more.

What do I do?
I win the battle
that rages inside of me

 I first wrote a lovely little poem about aging and being loved. It was sweet and happy with the repeating line smile and play. Well that obviously did not want to be published and wound up being deleted some how. That is where this came from.

I hope you enjoyed this and have a wonderful day remembering you don’t have to be angry when your work winds up being for nothing. 

Always smile and know you are loved.

Past never my Future

writing

I can see what people search for when they find my blog, or what they search for to find my blog. Today I saw a very cool sentence that I am sure is from something, but I’m not sure what it is from. I am going to use it as a writing prompt for this post. The quote is. “you can only narrate my past but you can never write my future.” 

I hope you enjoy.

You can narrate my past.
Please do,
and tell me all the things I went through.
Speak the words that you believe
the words that will add up to my story.
How do you see my life?
How will you narrate my past?

I ask you to narrate my past,
but you can never write my future.
I myself can only plan the unseen.
I do not write my story,
so you cannot either.
Let the future be
and tell me all about what has been.

Yes, You can narrate my past
but you can never write my future.
You can tell me my story,
but will not be able to force the unseen.

At the Windmill (a poem)

poetryThere is a little cafe near my house that I believe I am becoming a regular at. Today I went by myself and had breakfast. I decided to write a little as I waited. This is one of the poems I wrote while enjoying their food. It really is a great place.

With painted wall,

warm and inviting

art hangs welcoming guest

saying be who you are

do what you will

and enjoy the good that is served

 

With the sky on the ceiling

bright and pleasing

curtains hang to welcome guest

saying come near or far

do what you will

and enjoy the food that is served

 

So I write and dream

sitting in the corner so I can watch

the couples eat

The students study

and an other lone female reading the paper

I sit, watch and writing

doing what I will

and enjoying the food that is served.

Writing Process (a free verse poem)

poetry

Poetry comes out
with my eyes closed
when sleep in near;
brilliant poems flow
when paper is far
and repeating is not enough.
Wisdom and intelligence overwhelm me
when the only outlet is to speak it to myself
or when no one is listening.

Yet when I open my eyes
words fly away
like fading dreams they fly.
The poetry inside is trapped
like a rat in a house unable to be freed
as soon as the paper is in reach.
I open my mouth when some is around
and only babble spews out.

So I write with my eyes closed,
freeing my poems from the paper trap
and write when no on is around
with the quiet of my mind.