Rachel Dacus, Poet & Writer. My forthcoming novel is THE RENAISSANCE CLUB.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Permission to be a poet
It's something only you can give yourself: a space to create, sweet as ripe cherries. To find it, buy it with love for your creative self, wrap it in ethereal sheets of time, and then unwrap it as though you deserve every crinkle of the delicate paper and every silky ribbon of ink. You give yourself permission to NOT write a word. Not even think. To drift, a poet in poet time with the willingness to do absolutely nothing if that's what comes. To think about writing without necessarily saying anything is permission. Here's a poem about it from my book Gods of Water and Air.
I had a beautiful bowl of cherries
to paint, stems perfectly arranged,
bowl offsetting the pale red fruit.
I ate them. Such is the fate
of so much art. But only the
At least this artist won’t starve.
Looking at a half bowl of cherries
I still want to create. Maybe a
of the pits in another bowl, so
gone by. Or perhaps a poem about
of the painter for sensuous
of artists and their models through
and also the story of the art
that was never made
while they became their own
works of art. Jade bowl. Stems.
Hungers ripe and aching.
Summer’s half moon warmth.
Tender flesh. (Note to self:
They were so ripe and cold.
Put cherries on the grocery list.
The dark ones this time.)
I'm offering a 10% discount off the Amazon price of Gods of Water and Air during September. Write to me if you want one!