The Creative Coma

I haven't written any poetry in a few days, which makes me nervous. Maybe my crazy poetry summer is coming to an end. It sounds strange, but I'm blaming it on my plans to go back to school. In my unscheduled chaotic life, poetry seems to come more easily to me, but planning out my schedule for the Fall has given me a sense of structure. I'm not just drifting anymore. I have a plan.

Maybe it's actually more simple than I'm making it out to be. Perhaps chaos and creativity do not have to go hand. Maybe I've just been using the energy I usually use for writing on making plans for school instead.

I have never had a great deal of energy.

I'm not going to let the lack of new poems bother me. Even if the well is tapped dry for now (which it might not be), I am planning on taking a poetry class in the Fall, which should inspire new ideas and force me to revisit various forms of poetry.

I remember hearing once that you should always get up when a poem wakes you in the middle of the night. I think that says a lot about the allusive nature of poetry. I never know when poetry is going to show up.

Poetry occurs on it's own terms.