I have been really inspired lately. As a result, I am spending hours in coffee shops frantically trying to write as much as possible. I am unsure if it is all the coffee or the inspiration that is making me giddy and a little manic as well. I suppose we do what works though. Nikki Giovanni said that "... we poets tend to think our words are golden..." I do not think many of my word are indeed golden but sometimes they can be so I am attempting to let these ghosts speak through me. If the words are not properly mined and come up murky browns or greys I will still smile that I have put more of them down. So I ask you, mediated world, to come along on this journey with me. Let us not look back as we giggle into the future.
Favorite stanza of mine for the day:
It is the waiting for my turn to go down to his well for water
that always trips me up/never been good with not getting what I want part.
Now each thought is a woodpecker keeps knocking/keeps wanting in my head
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