Automatic

Even now players are out in the yard

Players throw and kick and take and get

Vulnerable to the way the earth spins

Vulnerable to the time we don’t have

Vulnerable to

Feet, one in front of then other

Feet that move me

Feet that stand still

Feet that hold me up

Dreamlike in the corner

Dreamlike visions of future lives

Painted with colors so vivid they seem like reality

Painted with greens and purples

Menu of my desires

Menu of my needs

Menu — off the menu

I wrestle with my want of other

Crap I don’t need

Crap that doesn’t need me

Crap I won’t take

Glass through the looking

Glass half full or half empty

This was formed during a writers workshop I was in yesterday. It’s a process called Automatic Writing. It is designed to spur writing that comes straight from the subconscious — non-sensical, no purpose, just letting the pen go. The instructor opened a book, flipped to a page, and chose a word to call out every thirty seconds or so — all at random. We had to switch and use each word as a prompt as soon as she called it. After it was done, I read what I write and realized I kind of like how mine came out. It is a pretty good poem. A great lesson and reminder that the words are already in you, you just have to learn how to get out of their way.