It all came
so easy to me.

Each word
I’d let

fly with
no testimony.

I could write
a poem

in seven seconds,
maybe nine.

I could write
non stop

like a man
possessed.

But that was
a different time.

The pen could
fly effortlessly

through blue lines
and white spaces.

Notebooks covered
with tags.

A true
creative.

Writing on
the train.

Writing
in class.

I was
on a quest.

Or depressed.
Or both.

Now the poems
come slower.

My brain
still trying

to find a
home

in a poem
I left long ago.

I want to
tell you

that things
will be ok.

Not every day
is going to rain.

Your sideshow,
all on display,

is a game
we play.

Originality
went out

a long
time ago.

Everyone
and their mother

knows how
to write a poem.

Sing a song,
hum a tune.

Its all
been done.

Nothing
original.

This moment
is the best

moment of
our lives.

We live it,
everything else

gone with
the tides.

Find something
to love

and hold on
to it

with all
you have.

Don’t silence
your passion.

Let the world
have it

and don’t
look back.

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His third book, Train of Thought 2: Almost Home is available now at the Oddball Book Store.