Creativity Research

Subtitle: That Poem in Which I Plagiarize Song Lyrics

I forgot how to write.
I fed myself forced creativity,
rejected by peristalsis.
Losing that part of my brain where my
halfway ideas and unfinished stories reside -
would that not be the worst reply?
(it's a superpower)

Who doesn't remember those times I
attempted being "poetic" and I tried not to rely
on laudations my acquaintances showered on me
believing perhaps thine words were slick and sly...
Do I even know about rhymes?
(fifty K for a verse, no degree out)

Crowds pushing, music pulsing, everybody wants the one
in the middle.
Walls crumble in and fold inside themselves the desires they
wish could hide.
But then who am I to shove my assumptions and superfluous fives
on a population I don't comprise?
(king of anything, she said)

Ah, only now do I realize the reasons they surmised
a talent could reside in the things that they call eyes -
but mine?
Making habits, breaking requirements, unplugging styles.
(on to the next one, on to the next one)

The Swell

Dangling toes over the edge, wondering
Who remembers?
Insignificant digits appended to a significant life
Hold your own hands
Nothing else matters but
self-belief
existing halfway between fantasy and reality

That insufferable swell
Chills dancing their way through veins and arteries
Genuine energy with childish fears
beg the question, why do we fear these things?

Is it pain? deep inside a different soul yet unknown
Songs will write themselves and only after publication
will I know what I mean

If Bovine Could Fly

Scratching at the unpainted surface of a tired melody
Half truths and full lies entertain themselves in heartfolds
Who is the dog that barks his every fleeting thought
without careful contemplation
whose insincere consideration begs for laughable condemnation?

A wipe at the face and halt. Inhaling stale air
marks mere attempts at determination and they
pretend cirrus clouds and radioactive demons are but distractions
in an opaque painting of a lackadaisical raison d'être

Yet freshwater etches a fresh scar on ravaged skin
and leaves unprinted harmonies for the homeless to pick
Wondering -
No wondering.
Reaping ideas they tried piecing into a Picasso frown that'd
theoretically turn upside down if bovine could fly and
brush off their shoulders like
inconvenient dirt
thinking we'd all laugh ensemble

But I refuse to accept dysfunctional bombs and saccharine pity
from those who think not of what they are.
Surely a mind such as mine might understand.

Unremarkable Diary

Everything that drowns the silence

Sleeps inside of me

All the moments people dream of

Creep inside of me

Put my head to the radio and speak

Louder than the voices in my head

Tumbling down cracks in the name of

A visage only I see

Who sees? Is it me?

Wonders of aging time and tearless goodbyes and angst we pretend to harbor unnecessarily

Was it just a jaded teenage dream?

Greedy for the light and

Grieving shadows through unknown tomorrows but there lies

Truth

Such truth in the eyes that look beyond what I believe to be

My version of reality

My adaptation of peace

And I wonder, oh I wonder!

Dangerous thoughts are those that aim to please the

Citizens of a granite city

And the cuts in their jackets and ties in their blouses

Crease every page of an unremarkable diary

And I taste a little bittersweet,

a little redder than most but catheters scream and lions flee and

Poetry lies by the wayside, wondering, "Who are these things?"

Only by the midnight do my thoughts run free and am I caught in a leash

Burn what things may fall please and I

Yes, I

Will renew peace.