FREEWRITING EXERCISE #90

Photo by Mubariz Mehdizadeh on Unsplash

There is a slack in the arm,
where the elbow
bends taut
like a crane
dipping its head into the water.

Its beak
disappearing
only to reeemerge
filled with fish.

The way the scales
must run,
all slimy and cobblestone,
down the tongue.

To cut to the point
I am feeling
like a felled tree
the thud of timber
muffled on my mattress
and there, being no birds
to fly off dramatically into the distance.

I wanted more from this life,
I wanted suspense. I wanted
dagger-throat romance,
I wanted sea of green swimming-pool,
bills plucked fresh
with their faces still clean.

I wanted absurdity, I wanted freedom,
and now all I have is peace, and
a little quiet on the weekends,
yet some wind in my chest
is rifling through the
papers, flipping
the channels
and water splashing like a prophecy
onto the banks of man

I don’t know what it is I want
but I never feel like I have it

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #89

Photo by Craig Whitehead on Unsplash

An intruder in the garden,
two steps by two steps.

We are alone
but only for the brief period
between one hue of the sky
to another.

The sun sets
too soon
for any work to be done
and we are home again

Waiting for the minute hand
to lay itself on twelve

Twelve hands
Twelve bodies
Twelve silver bells

Chaos sprawling on a chalkboard,
skidmark green, bloodstain red
numbers and words all mud
there was some meaning here

when I write about this
we will be in the same unnamed garden
looking for the first sign
of winter’s wilting
and the wane of this

I call it this
I don’t know what this is
I don’t know if this is named
or if this is specific enough
to only apply to me
or us
or anybody within my periphery
bulbs in the distance
or bobbing on the water
the light dips,
and disappears,
and dips,
and disappears.

let’s go drown ourselves
in a pool of tomorrow’s luxuries.
let’s go throw ourselves off
into a cloud of serendipity.
let’s run into traffic.
let’s run like we’re invincible.

I don’t love you but I wish the best for you.
I don’t like you but I wish the best for you.
I don’t know you but I wish the best for you.

Or maybe that’s what the clouds meant,
that day in the unnamed garden,
morphing from one blurry face to another.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #88

Photo by Donna Mccoy on Unsplash

Variations on a theme.

The taste of freshly cut
pear in the mouth, the
off tune of seagulls by the pier.

The swirl of wine
in a green glass bottle.

In this poem, we are
going, back to a time
when we did not know what it took
to hurt one another.

People strolling down the sidewalk,
a hustle of seagulls fighting over a fry.
Two right angles
seated on the same bench.

I am not looking at you,
I am not.

All birds are the same to me,
all feather and chaos
in flight,
beaks scissoring to cut,
their throats all filled with protest.

I do not remember why
I remember any of this,
I do not know why
you don’t.

It’s a simple matter, really,
a scene from a time
one could
classify
as better,
but, for now,
has resigned into a box
in the back of a dusty storeroom
for which the door is always kept shut.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #87

Photo by Michael Jin on Unsplash

Imagine the head as a puzzle
box, thoughts like silver
bearings running through
a suspended maze, translucent
walls of varying colours, rotating
in the hands of some unseen
child. Imagine – silver,
dripping slow, hot
down the canal
of a prisoner’s ear,
imagine being lead
by the hand to a
field of flowers
before finding the gallows in the middle of it.
Imagine – the lack of surprise.
Imagine, peace and anxiety
muddled together in the same unwashed coffee mug
and you, hurriedly drinking the slop
to quench a thirst that never runs out.
Imagine being content to be
thoughtless and meaningless,
to float undisturbed in the ether
of God’s womb, and
to find no pain hence.
Imagine being
the only consciousness
in your sphere of concern,
and then rolling down a hill
into a busy intersection
and the middle of a 4-way crash.
Imagine confetti scrap metal,
imagine loud screech of claw on asphalt,
a tire burning to mark the occasion,
and someone’s quiet sobbing a week from now.
Imagine not being afraid of being afraid
to live, imagine living, imagine dying.
Imagine thinking at all.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.

FREEWRITING EXERICSE #86

Photo by Garret Silver on Unsplash

Silence, then. Silence on a
silver platter, silence in the
central column of our spines.
Silence in the hallways. Three
steps down a wooden staircase,
the familiar gallop of a man
rushing on his way to work;
his hands running down the
bannister as though a flourish
on a keyboard. In the deep
thick mud of my insignificant
anxieties I find myself wily,
swapping sound for sound,
as if to put together a whole
different place to reside in.
At times like that I do not need poetry,
and this is a conscious reminder to stop
conforming to the squared box of my daily
reality, and to believe, to believe in a higher
order to all of this math, this give and take
of humanity and its relationships, the
daily division we sow amongst our
selves, the seeds of doubt sewn in
the folds of our brains, the notches
on our spines like bookends on a shelf,
sorting out these fears into little organised
militias, sending them out to
fight proxy wars against myself.

I admit that I am full of anxiety,
but I work on it

I admit that I know that I am anxious
but sometimes it really does feel bad
and I guess I have nothing poetic to say about that

I admit I admit I admit that I am anxious
that this will not be a poem but merely
a thinly veiled rant and perhaps dressed
in the sound of the present’s wrapper
being torn open on a warm christmas morning

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #85

Photo by Alicia Steels on Unsplash

Arms take to music, each limb
a swaying branch, my room an
opera’s booth; music streams
softly down the mountains of
my shoulders. I am perpetual
in rehearsal, drinking in the
introductory steps to how I can
be art, which is to say. how I
can obfuscate which I am to say.
I imagine the artist’s mind like
a clam, opening up to swallow
sand only to create a pearl.
Each grain stuck behind molar,
dagger-tooth, to change what
we step upon to what we place
above ourselves. There is an
uncertainty to how art is to
be practiced, and I find myself
musing about loftier concepts
even as I dance with nobody
in the curtained stage of my
5 x 5m room. A foxtrot, a
left step over a cliff edge,
a head full of rattle and sun-
spot. I imagine myself the
pearl and my brain a sponge
to be wrung dry. I find not
art but disappointment, but
most art is disappointment
with a bow tie, and maybe
most art is just not named.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #84

Photo by Paul Neil on Unsplash

Always defined by what we
lack, the donut made whole
with its hole. I am not true;
I have not been to anyone
it seems. In me, a lack of
concrete. Of grounding. A
closet full of masks – or
are they all the same face?
I have grown too weary to
try each one in the mirror.
So I find new ways to re-
affirm my selves – I draw
their shapes in ink, I call
them by their names, I
pull them by their hands
and I drag them under
the shower-head. All of
these are me – like roll
of a die, flip of coin. I
go to bed as somebody
and wake up as some
body. The mornings
are cold, but the light
still comes in to tickle
all our feet. Twenty
of us in a bed, at least,
it feels like, who knows,
who wrote this even,
and who will read this
aloud, and who will be
the one to propose
deleting everything,
who will be the one
who will learn to care
and who will learn
to not, who will be.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.