I was planning a blog post about a time this week when I had to set down my expectations and get out of my own way…but something else came out instead, so I had to set down my expectations and get out of my own way. How appropriate. I ended up writing what I needed in that moment: something to help me get in the mood to create when I’m feeling uninspired or resistant. And so, here is my prayer to creativity. I hope it blesses you with a SPARK!

wherever i come from,

willing or…less,

an idea on my soul,

or nothing, just yet.

may the gods crowd around me

and fill up my chest.

may my heart be wide open

to inspiration’s breath.

let my mind be a servant

to gather, then rest,

to surrender its fears

and its thoughts of what’s “best.”

i’m lighting a candle

and making the bed,

so something more precious

can lay down instead.

i’m scattering petals,

a rainbow of colors,

so creativity knows

it belongs in these covers.

i’m singing sweet songs

to entice all the lovers.

to show them it’s safe,

i brought plenty of rubbers.

this is a place 

to be wild and free,

for everything silly 

and sacred to meet.

closing my eyes,

i bough to the tree.

i’m ready to give life

to what’s coming through me.

imagine a fire,

a bright, dancing glow. 

its beautiful petals

delight to unfold.

their lips clear a path

with soft, molten kisses.

the power to transform,

igniting forgiveness.

imagine your chest,

pulsing with flames.

alive with love 

as your heart melts its chains.

allow what isn’t yours

to billow away.

ash joins the universe

to become a new day.

watch the fire lick and lap 

at every sore place.

wrap its arms around sadness, 

soothe fear, soften shame.

let its heat meet the edges 

of anger and hate.

sparks fly, as it bleeds 

with their fiery pain.

breathe in fresh air. 

let your lungs fan the flame.

watch it light up each cell, 

free each vessel and vein.

warmth tickles each crevice,

watch how they play.

feel what it feels like

to forge a new way.

I woke up today with a plan for what I was going to write. I made myself breakfast and sat down at the table. Looking at the computer, my stomach dropped. My plan didn’t match what I felt.

When I came up with it, I was excited. But now, it feels like a chore. And forcing myself into a cage is not why I write poetry. I write poetry to find magic in the truth.

I write poetry to guide me toward flow, even when it isn’t what I expected when I turned on the tap.

This morning, turning on the tap, I am in an apartment I’m moving out of, surrounded by objects I have to get rid of in the next ten days. I am overwhelmed by the life my past self created. I’m ready for what’s next. Pero bueno…

I had a whole plan

for what I would write.

But now I feel, “fuck it.”

I’m less than alright.

I don’t want to make something

that misses my pain.

I don’t want to ignore

my stress and my strain.

My stomach feels icky,

my head is a mess.

I’m doubting myself.

I’m afraid and depressed.

I want to write freely,

from the nowest of nows.

And in this very moment,

it just feels like “ow.”

I could push it aside.

I could press on instead.

But that’s what I used to do.

I ended up dead.

I often find myself diving deep, into heavy emotion and big transformation. I love it. It’s what I do. But sometimes…it’s a bit much. Sometimes, the medicine I need more is just to play. To imagine. To be silly. So this week, I challenged myself to break out of my usual rhythm and do something different.

I am learning to lighten up.

To fill my cup

with flakes of frosted crystals

that leave sugar dust in lavender milk.

Little sips of silk,

the color moon.

I am learning to dance magic.

Sparkling fingertips,

swirling tornado hips,

enlightening a storm in the air.

I’m writing my own solar system.

A planetary play,

starring…Neptune.

A deep blue mystery,

one leap ahead

of everything I know.

A rainbow bridge that draws itself

one color at a time.

The rest of the poem,

an un-know-em.

Every line

holding its breath

waiting to be whispered into the sky.

A silver slingshot,

launches bright, burning giggles,

that light up the dark as they wiggle.

A pirate ship of treasure dreams

sets sail in open seas.

Where all the rules and threaded spools

unravel at every seam.

Tearing apart the insides of my heart,

so every love vessel is seen.

Let every wave break,

every hardening unmake,

so the river can rage different ways.

Let nature disrobe,

take off all your tight clothes,

so the awe of raw nakedness

speaks.

As our jaws hit the floor,

there’s an unopened door

to a place that our minds never reach.

The mystery zone,

the orangutan’s throne,

where hanging upside down

reigns supreme.

Where the breeze is exposed

to the tips of your toes.

And you don’t have to know what I mean.

Go ahead, flip the script,

to see wild tpircs 

who swing free on a flying trapeze.

Re-jigger your eyes

with a whole new disguise

so there’s no former you to be seen.

And then you’ll be free,

that’s the un-recipe,

to un-think,

to un-know,

to un-be.