Inspiration is like crack rock to Artists. I personally think it gets worse as I age. I begin to overflow with angst if too long passes in between my treasured moments of sanity when I feel inspired. The rest of the time in between is… well… just that.

Time in between.

Today was very fabulous because two different music tracks inspired two very different poems. In the writing group I co-host, common conversations are about how creative work is perceived. The relationship of an Artist with their creation is personal. The way the Internet continues to offer people opportunities to express themselves creatively literally makes me shake with excitement.

Here are two poems I wrote today while listening to the sounds of incredible independent artists circulating their amazing work to the entire world over these little boxes everyone has grown so accustomed to.

It fascinates me…

finding good fortune when people throw rocks

We reached that
point. Where no sight
senses unseen.
Everything is
obvious. Like a liquid
thunderbolt. Something
electric. Being terrified
of what moves
faster. Then,
what you can catch.
Scratches remaining
cut paths too.
Where?
One step trusting
eyes
that once
smiled. Security of
acceptance. What faded
from your voice
the last time
you called.
In a way
I have never been
so lucky.
So very
Vary.
Lucky.

how far gold extends

It never occurred
to me. That
the sunset
kissed the sky
another shade
where
you are.
Every time
something near me
drops
it’s somehow rising
toward you.
Watching silhouettes and shadows
beneath the stillness
of the sea.
Tinting my oranges red
in a way.
That
slows down
the stretch of my
breath. During
each setting
exhale.