I'm afraid my darling readers, I don't have an original poem for you this month (I know, I know), but what I will leave you with is this fabulous article I found which illustrates a poem by Charles Bukowski.
I won't copy the poem here due to copyright infringement worries. But go read it!
The poem falls in line with the mantra I often have to repeat to myself "you either want it, or you don't."
Say what you want, but at the heart of life, most goals, dreams, fantasies are possible on sort of some level. Maybe you won't be a professional soccer player, but you play on the weekends in a league. It's still woven into the fabric of your identity.
You just have to work for it, and sometimes that means giving up other things, or adjusting other aspects of life.
In my life, the identity of writer is one assumed in spare time carved out in weekday afternoons and weekend days spent in front of the laptop. The only way to publish is to have things to publish. You can have the best idea in the world and the most beautiful language, but until it is physically captured, fleshed out, and edited it just exists in your head. Writer is a piece I want to list in my head, when I wonder what do I want out of my life? That five year plan? Ten year?
In ten years, I may not be at the same city, same job, or same level of health, but I plan, and work, to make sure I'll still write. Everything else? Just static.
Everyone comes to grips with their lives in different ways, but I have been lucky enough in mine to be content with simply creating in the time carved out. Taking the time though is a sacrifice. Keeping to my own deadlines, and working through challenges on my own requires dedication and perseverance.
Why am I mentioning this on the same post that should contain my original poem for the month? As a reminder of what happens when priorities shift.
You either want it or you don't. You either put the work and the effort in, or you just have dreams that hang dusty while the details of life get in the way.
Go read Bukowski's poem and keep writing!
I won't copy the poem here due to copyright infringement worries. But go read it!
The poem falls in line with the mantra I often have to repeat to myself "you either want it, or you don't."
Say what you want, but at the heart of life, most goals, dreams, fantasies are possible on sort of some level. Maybe you won't be a professional soccer player, but you play on the weekends in a league. It's still woven into the fabric of your identity.
You just have to work for it, and sometimes that means giving up other things, or adjusting other aspects of life.
In my life, the identity of writer is one assumed in spare time carved out in weekday afternoons and weekend days spent in front of the laptop. The only way to publish is to have things to publish. You can have the best idea in the world and the most beautiful language, but until it is physically captured, fleshed out, and edited it just exists in your head. Writer is a piece I want to list in my head, when I wonder what do I want out of my life? That five year plan? Ten year?
In ten years, I may not be at the same city, same job, or same level of health, but I plan, and work, to make sure I'll still write. Everything else? Just static.
Everyone comes to grips with their lives in different ways, but I have been lucky enough in mine to be content with simply creating in the time carved out. Taking the time though is a sacrifice. Keeping to my own deadlines, and working through challenges on my own requires dedication and perseverance.
Why am I mentioning this on the same post that should contain my original poem for the month? As a reminder of what happens when priorities shift.
You either want it or you don't. You either put the work and the effort in, or you just have dreams that hang dusty while the details of life get in the way.
Go read Bukowski's poem and keep writing!
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