Is it brave to enter a river you canโt pronounce?
The water in my blood sings to its sisters
and somewhere else,
under a closed sky,
my shore.
๐๐
#poetry#poetrycommunity
When I write, I don't think much about what I am writing, I am simply trying to alleviate an intense pressure in my head, I have described it like having to pee, only in your head.
โMary Ruefle
Poem: Psst! Psst! Wake up!
Me: It's 3am, Poem. Go to sleep.
Poem: But what if I'm really good?
Me: You're not. You're an existential crisis.
Poem: Excuse me, I can be both. I contain multitudes, you know.
#AmWriting
For NaPoWriMo next month*, do I want to write 30 poems about Fleetwood Mac's 1977 masterpiece Rumors? Y/Y
* My asynchronous online writing group does it in November. DM if you'd like to join us.