The Headache of Zeus

I’m looking for that perfect sentence

the one that will open this poem

the perfect metaphor never used

so that you will read my poetry.

I even bought a book or two

to help me on my quest

to find the right combinations

of those words that I seek.

Poetry for Dummies is one

that claims to help demystify poetry

only will it help demystify me.

I dream, dreams of words aligned

all in perfect poetic order

then when I sit to write they are a jumble.

Outside the sun shines bright

and I hear the birds singing

the world is slowly waking up 

as I emerge from the dreams.

Now I sit here writing once again

looking at the blinking cursor

on the blank screen of the iPad

trying to remember what I dreamed

in the midnight hours

because what I saw was that sentence

all pretty and perfect

just waiting to be birthed

a sleeping fetus

enclosed in a darkened womb

of my mind

the headache of Zeus

that refuses to be born.


I am no sound 

just a whisper,

a slight breeze

tingling your neck

in the soft kisses

lips meeting

in the twilight.

I am the blade of grass,

sitting among the flowers

stretching out of the ground

towards the noonday sun.

I am but a plain man,

another face in a crowd

indistinct from the others.

I am your lover,

in the secret spaces

of the heart.

I hold you close

as our bodies cling

shutting out the noises

of a world gone mad.


The New Year dawns

I hate making resolutions

they never seem to work out

sure I’m told you need to focus

my answer, focus on what?

I’m no genius, I just try daily

my writing is sparse, a desert

nothing seems to grow

only the weeds of my thoughts

choking out the fine nuances

that mark the good writers.

Yet, I try each day to see beyond

to reach deep within mining the heart

looking for that one metaphor

that goes beyond mere description.

There are writers and poets

who seemingly do this with ease

their brains are wired that way

it’s a gift not to be wasted.

Maybe, I’m too old for rewiring 

too set in ways beaten into me

by teachers who had no time 

to deal with a daydreamer

yet I resolve to write more

to risk it all on a few words.

Risk Taking

 I haven’t written much in the past week, with Holy Week and Easter plus the added fun of having family visiting, I really was pressed for time to write and writing, for me, takes time. It’s not something that I just sit down and then pour out all of my thoughts onto a page. It’s a process of experimenting with these thoughts, putting them into words and then trying to make sense of what I’ve written. Once in awhile I’ve tried some of those one word prompts, some do generate a good line or two, most just don’t get my creative juices flowing. I see something, think about it, then try to let the words flow from the brain onto the page, the trouble is that it sometimes looks more like the scribblings of a mad man. Crazy thoughts generated in my Swiss cheese mind doing their best to flow through the many holes I have created over the years.  Next week I will be starting another writing course, this one will focus on creative nonfiction. It will be an opportunity for me to explore a genre that I feel a bit more comfortable with rather than straight out fiction writing. With nonfiction writing I hope to open up a few more avenues into my creative process writing about those things that I find both interesting and baffling. It doesn’t mean that I will be creating some kind of best selling story or book, but I will be creating a picture for myself, a painting in many various shades and hues of the world that I inhabit. Like most works of art it is all up for interpretation, someone may love it, another may hate it, then others will see something totally unintended by what I’ve written. In a way that’s the beauty of the creative process, it’s in seeing the various responses that helps me to hone the material into a more cohesive piece. 

 Workshopping a piece with others in a creative and supportive environment is what I like about these classes. I live so much of my life within, always just mulling over a thought until it becomes mush. Even writing in this blog is taking a major risk. Exposing my inner thoughts in a less than welcoming world, a world that is so set on its own agenda, sets my introverted self on edge. Yet, I cannot allow that fear to drive me underground or to stifle my thoughts. Sure, I’ll be the first to admit I’m not one of those bright lights, shining in the distance. I’ve always figured that amongst my colleagues in the Episcopal priesthood, that I’m definitely not one that stands out. Mostly that’s been my choice, staying in the background, flying under the radar, so to speak, and just doing what I do without the fanfare and bright lights others seem to crave. However, now as I begin to contemplate my next life beyond active ministry, it’s time for me to take stock of where I am and where I’m going. 

 I’m sure stuff will be spilling out over the next few weeks and that some of it will make it onto this blog. Some of it may not look pretty and some may be a bit puzzling but at least I’m taking the risk to put it out there.