The Writing Life
There is a good bit of irony
in writing to be mindful.
The nature of writing
is not being present.
The nature of writing
is being past.
To write about experience
is to be present
in the writing
perhaps, if one is
conscious of the pen,
the paper, the pause,
the gathering and planting.
More likely, writing is
an act of being present
to not experience,
not even memory of experience,
but to meaning
strained from memory
which is its own
filter of experience.
Writing is distilling
and steeping
and playing with the settings,
cropping and combining,
layering and stripping away
and saturating,
separating the wheat,
as they say, from the chaff.
Writing is the long way
to mindfulness.
We take the orange,
extract the juice,
strain the pulp,
and drink what's left
to experience
the orange.
So the purpose of this blog is to be a space to practice creativity. I am currently using it as a place to record a single, unedited poem for each day in 2019. While I attempt to write everyday, I may not actually post daily. Instead, I will post poems as they are completed, but one for everyday of the year. Not sure I can make it, but we'll see. It's fun to try regardless :)
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Poem: January 21, 2026
Forecast Just suggest the possibility of snow on the horizon, and I become truly useless. The storm’s three days away and on a weekend, but ...
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Maintaining Some people won’t straighten their desks at the end of the day, but I do, most days, and I sweep the floor as well, ten to tw...
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Couple Bring me the sunset in a cup, warm golden, glowing slow on the bank of some old world river or the shore of an ocean. The two of us,...
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Commitment I get that my whiteness is in no way a burden, and I’ve no right to think it’s anything less than a boon that daily, in this time...
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