Maybe it’s time #morningcoffeesession Day 3
It’s Earth Day! Be sure to hug a tree, plant a tree, kiss a flower, plant a flower, go barefoot over grass and let your toes be tickled by the earth! Give thanks to the mother of us all – Mother Nature! – who loves us deeply! Write poetry for earth day! Write a love letter to your favourite plant! Share your love for our incredible planet!
Day three of #morningcoffeesessions with Chris and the Firefly Creative Writing family was very great again! Today’s prompt was the most challenging for me so far. It was about what I want to write about. Basically, Chris asked us to ask ourselves five different ways what we want to write about. My first answer, honestly, was I don’t know! By the fifth time I answered a question about it though…my answer was I want to write about everything! Hahaha! In the middle though, a thought poked her head up. A wee thought with a wee voice but a voice I heard nonetheless. She said: what if it’s time to write about writing.
maybe it’s time to writing about writing
to disinfect the scalpel
make an incision down
the centre of my throat
pull out his words –
lodged in my gullet
since I was 15 –
carefully take each
beautiful letter out
one at a time
Y
O
U
C
A
N
N
O
T
W
R
I
T
E
A
B
O
U
T
W
R
I
T
I
N
G
drop each bloodied letter
into a metal kidney dish
hear each CLINK
like the bullet it is
suture up my throat
put the dish on my desk
where I can always see it
admire the scar
trace my fingers down
the skin-punctured river
and know that I can
write about whatever
I want
maybe it’s time to write about writing
I’ve put in ten thousand hours
and those are just for poetry
I’ve become an expert in the
art of self-expression through writing
I’ve wept and laughed
begged and given up
I’ve faced the terrifying land
of an empty page
been spanked by the
lazy pulse of a smarmy cursor
I have given my soul
to the words
that matters
I have mattered
I have not mattered
I have mattered again
maybe it’s time to write about writing
to get down on all fours
open my mouth
bare my teeth
flail my tongue
GRRAAAWWWLLL
SQUUEEEEEEEE
RAAAAWWWWLL
to protect the knowledge
of the jungle that is
my writing world
I am not a queen
but an elder
sacred teachings
hand-written on my
white eyelashes
white eyebrows
evidence that
I am turning
into paper
to protect a thing
one must know
what it needs
to survive
words survive
because I’ve
protected them
shared my sacred
teachings over time
gently quietly
scattered
writing exists as
the language
for the soul
I am fluent
maybe it’s time to write about writing
The truth is that I’ve always wanted to write about writing…but damn those words that English teacher said over and over…and damn the comparison-monster in my brain who says I’m not a mary oliver a stephen king a natalie goldberg an ursula k. le guin…..there is much to contend with in my brain around the subject about writing about writing…but…maybe it’s not quite time…maybe I don’t have to be anyone but who I am…and I am a writer.
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