This is something that I used to do a lot when I was in-between classes or waiting around at the doctors. I’d write a poem in five or ten minutes and I wasn’t allowed to edit or change it. It’s a really interesting way of seeing what you can do when you don’t think too much about the process. I believe completely that thinking too much about how to do something creative can kill all of the fun and a lot of the skill. I love it when poetry comes from nowhere and is blunt and brutal.
I’ve changed it a little because I gave myself a prompt for this one, rather accidently, I saw this image and just wrote from it. It was posted by my friend teagoose on Pinterest but I can’t find anyone to credit for it so I’m just linking to it in case anyone wants to see it rather than putting the image on here uncredited. So here’s my five minute scribble.
The clawed mist walks towards our shrinking fire.
Burning through fuel we watch the night swallow time.
Again. Stare up at a ceiling of leaves
and breathe in their gift – go outside and stay there,
keep the soil in your pocket and an acorn, picked up
from the damp ground, close to your lung.