my poetic license has been revoked

***warning- dark post follows***
*you may need a flashlight…or a piece of chocolate*
When you are writing, do you prefer to use a pen or a computer?  asks the NaBloPoMo prompt for today. (National Blog Posting Month) 
Since I am still way out of sorts, this is good time to just spill some thoughts and share a poem I wrote a few years ago when my journals were “put on trial”.
Or maybe, most likely, it is a terribe time to write and share this, but I am anyways.


I prefer a pen and a notebook in the early morning…this is the dumping stage, my ‘lets wake up and figure out a plan for the day,’ where I scribble down all the odd little thoughts that got lodged into the nooks and crannies of my brain – combine them with goals and stir it all up with a huge dose of imagination. These journal pages are not meant for public scrutiny. They are incoherent ramblings of a creative soul. There are possible character sketches, snippets of plots and settings that I dreamt about……which unfortunately when looked at with a reality-based, logical mind- the picture they can paint is not always, um pretty.

Hence, this poem….it’s dark and sad and weird and cranky – and suitable. While I can and do write mainly on the computer these days, my morning pages* are not the same without scribbles and doodles in the margin, messy loops and tiny lists in between the lines.  I gave up journaling for a time, but never felt right without those crazy scribbled notes to myself. Now that I am doing them again, writing in general is easier.    No, life in general is easier.

(*the term “morning pages” come from Julia Cameron’s books- I started with The Artist’s Way back in the early 90’s and have used the ideas found in them continuously…Morning pages are technically 3 pages written long hand, free flowing, not meant to be reread, just a place to get your brain in gear )  
pen to paper
reality suspended
fantasies unleashed
naked emotions
raw desires plugged into the page
power recharged….
no more
my poetic license has been revoked
imagine, hmpf…
dream, whatever…
expect, sure thing…
big ideas – plans – so what
pollyanna has been laid off

no let’s be honest,
she was fired, had a nervous breakdown and jumped off the bridge
tragic, you say?
well, feelings are fatal
and this message will self destruct in 3 seconds
3, 2, 1
death to the journal 
cool portrait of my daughter