Member Rara Avis
I tend to write spur of the moment but if you came into my little sanctuary here, you would find matchbook covers, napkins, ATM statements . . . with poems written on them.
Always always carry paper and pen or some sort of suitable writing instrument.
(I once wrote a poem with my eyeliner and on the palm of my hand)
I love my journals. I try to write in these which I keep by my PC which are bordering around 15 or so by now.
I can look back at my handwriting and the time it was written and why I wrote it.
Is a jog down memory lane.
Besides, I love the feel of the small book in my hand. A window to my soul.
Sometimes, I have sat here and typed out something which I later said to self,
"Self, who in the hell wrote that?"
But that isnt too often.
What I do is sit in the damn edit box for eternity, tweaking and editing and looking at it and editing again . . .
I also keep a journal by my bed, you never know what you will wake up or go to sleep with.
It's funny to look back at my writes when I was 16 and see that it was perfect rhyme every other line, huge handwriting and they were happy poems!
Now, I see quick scribble, crossouts and half-written poetry. Sometimes a line will strike me in my head while I am doing something and have to jot it down later.
crawling in the mud
my nails were filled with dirt
One day, it will.
I write from pain, pain seeps from my veins onto paper and into this room. If I write happy, it is usually because someone has made me feel good.
I tend to write pain better than I do happy.
I will never give up my paper and pen.
I read Hendrix's journals and they were written on hotel scraps of paper and napkins . . . later to be made into,
"The Wind Cries Mary." etc.
Nice thread Raph
also, if my PC dies, half of my heart goes with it because I never save save save
what I write in here . . . it is always on paper first. Even when I do a duet - I am sitting here writing what the other person is typing. Gives me a feel for the whole write.
I have yet to write a poem on my private anatomy (K ya have one up on me) and I always write my happy poems with love. Always. The bitter ones are meant for those who I never got the chance to say &%$# off to and I also love to reasearch a topic I know nothing about and write of it.
Sometimes I just sit here and the birds chirping will cause me to write, other times one word will do it. I can tell you - that all of you have inspired me to write. You can see it in my writing here. A little bit of each of you grace these pages within my words.
Why do I write?
I just do . . .
[This message has been edited by littlewing (06-24-2003 04:43 AM).]