Nothing To Say...

I want to write a poem.  I've been enjoying that a lot lately.  More than I ever have before.

I've never wanted to write poetry before.  I always wanted to write stories, or prose.  But I always suffered from a distinct lack of ideas.  And I've discovered that poetry fits perfectly with the kind of art I really want to make.  I always knew that I wanted to make art with words, and so I assumed that meant I should write stories.  And that's what I always did growing up.  But I've recently realized that I'm not a very good storyteller.  Or, rather, I'm not a very good story-creator.  If someone gives me an idea, I can write the shit out of it.  But I have trouble coming up with the ideas myself.

And I think I've come to enjoy writing poetry so much lately exactly because it isn't necessarily about telling a story.  It's purely about self-expression in lyrical word form.  And it feels good.  Figuring out what I'm feeling and then turning it over and over in my mind, looking at it this way and that; and then finding different ways to express it, finding different ways to shape it into something interesting or beautiful or potent or impactful.  It's like solving a puzzle.  Writing stories is so much a mental exercise.  But writing poetry feels like an intuitive process, letting the emotional and mental sides of myself wrestle back and forth with each other, and following the pull, the flow of the words that come from their interaction.

And I've come to really, really enjoy that feeling.  And I want to do it every day.  I want to do it now.

But I'm having an ordinary day.  I'm not feeling anything in particular; I don't have anything I need to express.  And without that fuel, I don't have anything write about.  Sometimes I get lucky, like yesterday, and a poem will come to me even though I'm not feeling anything particularly deep or important.  But I have no control over that.  And right now, I'm sitting here, and I want to write a poem.  But I've got nothing to say.  I'm having an ordinary day.

I've got nothing to say
It's an ordinary day
Nothing to write home about
No reason to stay

There's nothing going on here
No deep thoughts to feel here
I'm empty as the mirror's gaze
For all the world to see here

This is just an exercise
Performed for all your judging eyes
Written to determine who
Can wrench the Truth from all my lies

Because I have nothing to say
On this ordinary day
And the rhymes of poetry sometimes
Just get in the way

Oh.  Well, fuck.  Never mind, then.