COIN PHRASES

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21
Jul

Poem/Question: Why do you write?

When you hate, what you read, from the day before

When you’re never finished

When the feeling never comes

And it’s hard to remember…

Why do you write?

 

When you’re not sure even you believe

In the words

When you’re not sure it does good

When you question this odd hobby

That sits you in a crumpled heap on your chair, again

And there’s an answer lurking inside of you

But you’re not sure it’s a good one…

Why do you write?

 

When the people you care about, tell you to get real

When people you want to care about you, don’t

When you receive no recognition

When there seems to be no beauty in your words

And it’s everything you dread…

Why do you write?

 

This could be like Rudyard Kipling’s ‘If’ – then, you’ll be a writer, my son:

When you can do all the above and keep going.

And not give up the dream, even if it’s necessary and good to take a break from it, for life,

But you grow in that break, and you return to that dream with different perspective.

When you can doubt yourself but work through those doubts, and learn about yourself

And you can still, confidently in a crowd, or alone at night, you can still call yourself a writer.

Then, you’ll be a writer, my son.

 

 July 21st, 2016  
 aleekwrites  
 Poetry  
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 0 Comment
14
Feb

Poem: Dealbreaker

I’ve never published anything lovey before. Can you tell?
(This is for a competition. So don’t judge. But judge.)

DEAL BREAKER

It was all wrong;

His politics, his taste in music and art.
He didn’t believe in chakras, he didn’t like champagne.
His jumpers, his horse before the cart.
He drove the wrong car, he didn’t like the rain.

“It’s over,” she said. “You go against all my principles.”

Him: “… Oh.”

He sipped his hot chocolate.
Her’s was a smoothie.

“So…Which one was the deal breaker?”

Her: “My principle to never fall in love.”

 February 14th, 2016  
 aleekwrites  
 Poetry  
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 0 Comment
21
Jun

I’m a pointless writer. (Poem)

I’m a thoughtful, flighty writer

A philosophical dream

Cynically idealistic, honestly fictional,

I’m so full of fancy bullshit, and inspired by the same.

I make apt observations of contradictory truths and beautiful paradoxes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m fun and I’m game; (I’m nonsensical and competitive).

I’m stupid with intelligence enough

To know what’s wrong with everything I’m doing…

and I probably know what you think of it, too.

I’m egotistical and sensitive,

silly and sweet,

sincerely trivial.

I like trying new things

Like word salads

and world literature

and whiskies.

I dance with my words like similes (they are notoriously bad dancers).

I’m humbly pretentious,

self-consciously brave,

and here’s a pointless poem;

the best kind of rave.

 June 21st, 2014  
 aleekwrites  
 Poetry  
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 0 Comment
14
Jul

Poem: Triple Dip

Triple Dip

A writer’s tale of the recessions

 

At the first dip my editor wanted me to move faster. With no time to love or study, I flew across the world in a hurry. But my work life flashed before my eyes when I was first at the scene of a crime. I saw the truck drive too fast and life cut too short and I ripped up my notebook of futility and thought. I felt too much to be objective about a homicide’s inflective.

 

At the second dip my editor wanted me to stay down. I wrote alone in a darkened room and withered away. I analysed obscurities and lost my spontaneity. I choked down cheap rum to mellow my protests as I pursued a career in a mess. I kept in line but eventually cracked at the limit of wasted time.

 

By the third dip, I wasn’t sure I needed my editor anymore.

I said my life is in progress and needs a first draft. Your edits to my freedom now seem rather daft. I keep my mistakes and my quirks and the pain that still lurks when I doubted I’d make it today. You want to digress but I define my own success and now I understand me. I had to kill the editor before the editor killed what I could be.

 

Life and work mooshed together in code.
Performed at Forget What You Heard (about spoken word).

 July 14th, 2013  
 aleekwrites  
 Poetry, Writing  
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 0 Comment