I Am a Writer
Why do I write? What do I write? Who am I when I do it?
Questions that would be answered differently every day,
As I never wake up the same person I was yesterday.
Every poem I write comes from a direction I did not plan.
They pop into my head and follow me about during my day.
Some insist on being written immediately.
Other poems stay in my mind for years
Not yet ready to spring forth and show the world what we are about.
There are many me’s inside this body, and they all want a voice.
I write because I cannot NOT write.
It is something I am compelled and propelled to do.
I write fantasy – faeries, dragons, unicorns, gargoyles, space ships.
I write sonnets, diminished hexaverses, ninets, nonets, tankas, haiku.
I write of everyday things, I write of common ordinary blah things.
I write of hope and optimism and tenacity.
I write sorrow.
An alliterative idea will jump onto my soul highway and I will change directions.instantly.
I am flexible.
I am tenacious.
Ideas roam around inside my head daily, begging to become poems.
I try to comply with them all.
It is what I do.
I am a writer.
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