Ode to creating

Friday, July 22, 2005

After not finding the right time to write and having good ideas come and go at chaotic intervals, I decided to make a small poem dedicated to that seemingly mysterious practice we all do once in a while: creating.

When does one find time to create?
Are there 'nough hours in the day?
What if you want to go and pray?
what if rains all night (it may)
and how 'bout times for shouting "yeay!"
while splashing lightly in the bay?
will time be handed on a tray?
You'll have to give some up, I say,
but why should duties have to pay?
You cannot leave them just at bay,
and how 'bout time left just to play?
I do not know if I can say
it's really more just left to fate
to show when it's time to create.

Will inspiration always come?
What if there's none?
are you then done?
fried in the sun?
like in a shun?
or a bad pun.
That won't be fun.
Will it just run?
Weigh like a ton?
Or like a bun?
Loud like a gun?
Or like a nun?
Or like a Hun?
When will you know it's begun?
It might come soon or might come late,
that special moment to create...

It could arrive in any place,
while in chase,
on a case,
packed in lace
about face,
on a bus, on a bench,
in a car, in a trench.
Walking slowly 'cross the street,
looking downward at your feet;
in a town, on a strand,
on the pavement, on the sand.
It comes with lightning fast precision,
or sometimes as a hazy vision.
Catch it quick, it won't last long,
wait a moment: now it's gone.

Why use a pen, Why do we write?
(it seems so fickle, seems so trite)
Why take a brush, why do we paint?
(it seems so boring, seems so quaint)
Why tackle notes, why do we sing?
(it seems so silly, has no ring)
Why make a film? why make a sculpture?
(it seems like more fun reading pulp, sure)

Don't waste time with silly queries,
there's no point, don't squish your berries.
The truth to you will be forbidden,
creating's nature is to stay hidden,
and pop out quickly when it may.
I guess that's all I have to say
about that nitty gritty,
pale and pretty,
(sometimes shitty).
crass and witty,
(yet quite viable),
huge and scary,
dark (yes, very),
hard to carry,
devilishly sweet,
pompous, brilliant and kindly trait:
that eternal need to create.

Next up... an ode to fucking hard work! Haha, which usually accompanies any flicker of inspiration, however brief it may be.


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