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.