the stories you tell/the magic you create
For want of a better word - a poem.
some days...the words will stay hidden like an immigrant in a little boat
waiting to be coaxed to the safety of dry land
sadly...sometimes the waters are far too rough and pull the words under
swallowing them into the vast abyss like a vortex
other days...I'm firing on all cylinders before I even put pen to paper
one idea follows another and another, like the constant barrage of mortars in far-off places
the need to create magic gets in the way, often with telling the stories that need to be told
like the press choosing the latest information about Taylor instead of the real issues
the key is to write and never stop
some days...the words will tell the stories that need to be told
other days...they will create the magic
and then there will be those special days
those sacred days when your pen is sharp and the words call out to you in all their raw and untempered beauty
when...the stories you tell is the magic you create
and you find momentary contentment like the asylum seeker that escapes their war-torn lands
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: I don't really suffer from writer's block...but recently...I've been finding it hard to say what I want to say. I also remember a chat in the comments section somewhere I had with Mackenzie Davis about being too caught up in always trying to write with a purpose or meaning and she did point out that there is a joy in just writing and playing with sounds and forms. She said it far more eloquently than I just did. Anyway, while this is hardly the most loosey-goosey piece ever...at least it's something I just wrote...tweaked and then - you're welcome?
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Scottish-Italian poet/writer from Glasgow.
Overflowing in English language torture and word abuse.
"Every man has a sane spot somewhere" R.L Stevenson
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection is now available!
https://paulspoeticprints.etsy.com
Keep reading
More stories from Paul Stewart and writers in Poets and other communities.
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By ThatWriterWoman4 days ago in Poets
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Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis4 days ago in Humans
Comments (15)
I found it!! "and then there will be those special days those sacred days when your pen is sharp and the words call out to you in all their raw and untempered beauty when...the stories you tell is the magic you create and you find momentary contentment like the asylum seeker that escapes their war-torn lands" Oof, what a fantastic bit there, but really the whole poem is like a fricking fireworks display. I love this so much, Paul. AND I JUST NOTICED the parallelism in line one and the final line. WOW. That is magical. I'm doing Writing Battle right now, and it's taken me three drafts to get to that sharpness you talk about here. I love with it happens, but lately, as you mention, it just doesn't. Gotta keep going until we find it, eh? I completely adore you writing these pieces, pal. The inspiration is next level. What a light you are 💗💗💗
Relatable. I love this "when...the stories you tell is the magic you create."
Thank you for this piece, pal! I felt this line so deeply: “ swallowing them into the vast abyss like a vortex” That has been my life as of late…but your author note just inspired me, so I’m going to write anyway. Loved this. For a simple flow of thought this was next level awesomeness!
I loved the analogies in your poem...you are so good at that. Just keep being you, Paul...there's magic in that!
Yes - and some of those days just FEEEEL nicer than others.
Well said, Paul. Loved this!
Taylor as in Swift? Your poem felt very lyrical to me so I sang it to my own tune! I loved it! Hope writers block leaves you! 🍩🥐
The parallel between a refugee feels apt here… sometimes we are exiles of our own creative lands, huh? I agree it’s fun to write for play, but I think you said something with this in spite of yourself! 😋
Yes! I love the analogies and sentiment here.. I have a similar feeling recently trying to write… so I’m also shaking off the perfectionism and just seeing what comes - or more accurately - what needs to come… what stories are desperate to be heard. Because I guess that’s what we are all really doing here…. Giving voice to that inner child who never had one and bottled up too much emotion (poison). It’s why we grow heavy as adults. Lose our joy and lightness. We have to offload this stuff…. Because we ought to be laughing and playing and singing and dancing!!!!!
I'd say you said it pretty well, Paul. I'll let you know if I ever reach that place of asylum.
Paul, I love this so much. I also am enjoying your beautiful AI pictures. This one reminds me of Starry Starry Night. You are so right. Sometimes we hit, and sometimes we miss, but we never know when so we have to keep trying.
So, so, so relatable.
Being unable to match Mackenzie's eloquent and thoughtful comments is an issue shared by you, me, and many of the creators on this platform--or so I believe, anyway. She really puts in the effort
Well said, Paul! But you forgot about the days when the words waterboard us!
Loosey-goosey...that just made me laugh :) And I feel what you were doing here and what Mackenzie's advice was saying. Sometimes it feels good to just put down whatever comes out, how it comes out. Other times, it feels good to pamper and polish the final piece. Great one!