Tag Archives: words

Scrambled eggs.

Fuck Hitchcock

the birds woke me up this morning.

disheveled

in a mid morning daze

from a long night

needing to rest well through the dawn,

they woke me

and were adamant about keeping me that way.

trying to gather my thoughts

as i take myself out the door,

words like cars barely getting through the gate.

‘fuck’ slides through no problem

with its inborn confidence

but the word morning

seems to get cut off at the ‘m’

forcing me to shovel it up

from this early traffic jam.

all the other words are carrying out

but if I try to stop and look at them

they fold back on themselves

and i have to read them backwards

as i drive by

and carry it all around the corner.

She saw me then

and I felt ashamed.


Infuriated by Disbelief

A doubt can be flattering, but an assertion is inflammatory. I was recently requested by a family member something to the effect of “Oh, you’re a writer, come up with a good Facebook status for me.” I decided for the sake of civility to not take that as an insult. I glanced at her page, thought for a few seconds, jotted something down and spun the screen back to here. The first thing I heard was “Oh, what a pretty line! Where’s it from?” I chuckled, and told her that i just thought of it; for the rest of the day, all I heard was “No… that has to be from something, you can’t just ‘think up’ something beautiful like that, where’s that quote from?” This infuriated me to no end. Why is it that I can’t be the creator of my own words? Is there something about me that just makes this unbelievable? How could I hope to pursue the dream or idea of being a writer, when even the simplest output I could give is robbed from me? This experience was so fucking insulting…

Question to those out there, how have/do you overcome others imposing the idea of limits? Have you had similar experiences?