Today, I woke up thinking potato chips don't go with coffee.
Then I thought (of course):
But I can't blog about that!
People warned me this would happen. That I'd start to see my life like a blogging Hamlet. Too much navel gazing. Too much pondering the meaning of every little thing. (Not that slings and arrows are trivial, Hamlet---I don't mean to make fun of your distress. But after watching Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, my opinion of you hasn't been the same.)
One thing blogging has taught me is trust. I don't obsess over whether or not I'll have something "blog-worthy" each day. I simply wake up and write. I show up; the words show up---just like those writer books that preach Butt-in-Chair Time said they would.
My poetry writing has taught me trust, too. Take that line Potato chips don't go with coffee. It may be a ridiculous thought to wake up thinking, but it would be a surprising start to a poem.
Potato chips don't go with coffee
My alarm alarmed me with those words.
I told you
and you said
Led Zeppelin doesn't go with mashed potatoes
and I said
that's not the same thing!
And you said
you're alarming me, my sweet, raw potato.
You see? That may not be the most amazing poem I've ever written, but I like it.
Tell me about a time that you didn't reject the first thought that came to you. Tell me about when you followed a silly idea. Tell me why potato chips go with coffee.
People warned me this would happen. That I'd start to see my life like a blogging Hamlet. Too much navel gazing. Too much pondering the meaning of every little thing. (Not that slings and arrows are trivial, Hamlet---I don't mean to make fun of your distress. But after watching Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, my opinion of you hasn't been the same.)
One thing blogging has taught me is trust. I don't obsess over whether or not I'll have something "blog-worthy" each day. I simply wake up and write. I show up; the words show up---just like those writer books that preach Butt-in-Chair Time said they would.
My poetry writing has taught me trust, too. Take that line Potato chips don't go with coffee. It may be a ridiculous thought to wake up thinking, but it would be a surprising start to a poem.
Potato chips don't go with coffee
My alarm alarmed me with those words.
I told you
and you said
Led Zeppelin doesn't go with mashed potatoes
and I said
that's not the same thing!
And you said
you're alarming me, my sweet, raw potato.
You see? That may not be the most amazing poem I've ever written, but I like it.
Tell me about a time that you didn't reject the first thought that came to you. Tell me about when you followed a silly idea. Tell me why potato chips go with coffee.
