writer’s laminate

“If writing’s what you love to do, then do it and don’t ever stop doing it. Because the only thing we’ll ever have is what we love.” – Cole K.

Yet I find myself

lost, wondering about my

own merit. Gauging my

success with a flawed metric.

 

Success should be derived from

accomplishments, feats of independence

not from the opinions of others.

Even still, our humanity requires

comparisons to be made–

from one soul to the next

we encompass each other

as if eclipses of some divine

Being.

 

the pen moves itself across the page

and the writers scrawl sentences

partly their own and partly something else’s

 

and we sit astonished as our government

carpet bombs, paying cadets to walk in circles,

while we shoulder the weight of debt–

most of us six figures in the hole

 

and stanzas are strewn about intermittently

vastly unrelated to one another–

for the most part anyways

 

But our kitchen is the heart

of this culmination of cultures,

beating beneath the rhythms of our music,

noticeable only in the still hours–

a white noise seldom appreciated.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s