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Write Slowly
As an antidote to the busyness of life I write slowly.
I slip beyond the worlds hypnotic chaos and fall into a blank page.
Here, with my head amongst the stars and my feet above the clouds,
I set my own pace and explore my (bitter)sweet escape.
Here is where I emancipate myself from the incessant quickening
of everything; here, just as I am, I write my freedom songs.
I let my words, my wild embers,
dance around my brain until nothing else remains.
On a truly blank page,
free from the shackles of conformity — I recover myself.
My writing is a practice of creativity and grace.
Practice makes better and I am hopelessly devoted to getting better.
But you can’t hurry creativity; I write slowly to create the best of me. Inevitably, a thousand more times,
I’ll pour my heart out through my pen,
bin it all then start again.
I’ll pout, laugh, scream and cry,
pick up the pieces and kick up dust in the face of life.
This may be true until the day I die;
at least it will be true for a long, long time.
