Breathe in.

Write your thoughts down.
All of that bullshit in your head.
Light it like a bomb.
And write your ass off
Till it explodes.

This idea.
Taking that 1000 word picture.
Beautiful or
As ugly as you want to.
If only in a minute.
That one minute of writing.
You matter.
You’re the creator.

That for the moment
That whatever plagues you.
The tattoo
Tatted on your wrist.
And all that it is
Is ink.
That feeling,
Let it dissolve into you.

And for a moment
You are

Your digital identity.
Your forever tomb.
Write till the clocks stop.

Like good sex.
Or like, something not
Like this world.
But something different.

Tell them you are brilliant.
In a few sentences.
Tell them
Fuck You.
I am doing this.
And in your writers world.
You are King, Queen, Prince, Princess.
Martyr, Superhero,
Savior, Destroyer.
President. Emperor.
Governor Swarzenegger

You are the terminating gunslinger
With this writing shit.
And when you are done.
Then you can be ordinary.
You can go back to being
A shade of grey.
But right now
don’t stop.
Make each line
Make you stronger then you are
Bigger then the projection on the movie screen.
Be King Kong.
Be Cleopatra.

But each poem will end
It will.
And you will recess back into your
Like a little tiny insignificance.

But you know
When you go back to that digital pad.
You can build yourself another world.


That’s what we do.

Write that poem’s history
Write its constitutions
Write its symphonies
Anthems, Presidents Days
Build its monuments
And its mausoleums
Write Its Big Bang theory
Write its own place
In the worlds library.

Then breathe out.

That’s my advice for you
Young poet.


Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.