Daily Poetry Writing

This is the only reality there is. If you can get it down on paper, in words, notes, or color, so much the better.
Henry Miller

Last year I did a small art piece for every day and called it Daily Art Cards. That was a way to get into the habit of creating art even when I didn’t have the energy or was in the right mood to create. Doing that taught me that I’m not as lazy as I tell myself. That I can do grand things in a small scale. And that when I do not have energy creativity fuels me. Creativity is energy to me.

This year I am writing daily poetry.

Writing poetry comes natural to me, I do it intuitively. But what comes out on the page sometimes surprises even me. I play with words as they pop into my head, letting any expectations on a good enough result go. Who cares? That it works, the words I chose, together row after row is like magic to me.

I like my own poetry. I’m enchanted by words. I like the sensation of writing it. I like how it comes together. I like the anticipation as I open the notebook and have no idea what I will write.

I take a deep breath and put my ink pen to the creamy blank page and start writing.

I like that I write quick and sometimes don’t get what it means until later. And reading back a few days I notice that I have (sometimes) already forgotten what I wanted to say; because I write metaphorically. So I have to find new interpretations of my own words. I play with well-known metaphors and hide the real meaning in secret messages, but without planning to do so. It comes out almost finished and I rarely go back and change it, though it happens.

I write positive messages to myself. One poem is like the editors letter (but from me to me), telling me that I am a poet and that I should be proud. It makes me smile. Quite a few poems is about how difficult and challenging it is for me to change. Sometimes I invent new words or use sayings or sentences in a deliberate wrong way. I try to trick the reader, demanding the slow reading phase that all poetry reacquires. Poetry should be read out loud, slowly and with love.

I let the words twirl around.

And the book I’m using is half the joy of this adventure. As I have mentioned before I got this beautiful hand bound blankie from my cousin Charlotta. She bought it in Edinburgh from a shop & gallery place called Owl and Lion! My book has this yummy pink screen printed cover and is the perfect size (is 9,5 x 13,5 centimeter small) for writing a short daily poem! As small as it was, it was the best gift I got, because I’ve been using it daily since January 1st and will continue to use it. When it is filled I might need to go to Edinburgh to get another one…

Before this year I have written poetry in a very different way. I vomited out eight or ten poems in one late night when I was sad, to then go back to not writing poetry for another year. Poetry is very emotional and I guess it “came to me” when I was in the Depressed Writer Mood That Can’t Sleep… Now I can evoke a similar mood by opening this special notebook, and it feels like quite an accomplishment to have found a new road to poetry writing. Many of my poems are melancholic, but I try to see an opening towards the light. In poetry, and everywhere in life.