Yesterday, I wrote a poem.
Not gonna lie here: I think it is the best poem I’ve ever written. Weeks of mucking around with stanza and enclosed space has begun to bear unexpectedly appetising fruit. I took what wasn’t either rhyme or rhythm and made both happen in a manner that, in the end, had me grinning from ear to ear. There is a delicate line to balance between editing and immediacy, and I know with fiction that time is the best editor I will ever find. Better ideas spring from deeper understanding, and with thought come the best answers. However, poetry is different. The immediacy of lyric, moment captured as it happened. That’s what I did yesterday.
I made something uniquely personal.
I can’t say anything more about it right now, but there is now a week in August that has become very important indeed to my journey. It doesn’t matter however if nothing happens in that seven days, because I am happier about my work now that I have ever been at any point in my life. I still struggle with dark days. This shit does not go away, and there is never a moment to forget that for every high you’re going to get a low. Right now however, at this moment /points I’m great. It’s better than awesome. This is the madness of the moment, of possibility in chaos, that maybe I hit the jackpot with a series of linked sentences.
Now all I have to do is wait and see.
Carry on about your business. There’s nothing here of interest.