My Creative Process

I start by grabbing my pencil.

Making sure it’s nice and sharp.

Then, comes my binder

With many a tale.

I misplaced my pencil.

Oh, I sat on it again.

Why do I do this?

I do not know.

I grab my pencil

And sit back down.

As the movie in my head plays,

My hand, a conduit

Over to the page.

The film gets tangled.

Causing frustration.

As I rage,

Trying to untangle the film.

I stay like this for several minutes,

Until I scribe it in an acceptable manner.

Many scenes are scribed.

Many hardships endured.

Many trials and tribulations.

Alas, victory is at hand.

The end has been reached.

Or so it would seem.

One revision done,

Another to go.

I set my binder aside,

And abandon my pencil.

I grab my laptop

And switch the mediums.

I type and I type,

My fingers gliding across the keyboard.

A straight conversion

Not in the cards.

Improvements must be made,

Rage comes once more.

The scene slows to a crawl

As I vent my frustrations

Typing and retyping

Until I find that balance.

I keep going and going

Until the end is reached.

However, it’s not quite done yet.

One last obstacle.

I scroll back up

Back to the beginning,

And reread what I just typed.

Looking for any small errors,

Any small inconsistencies,

And squash them like bugs.

Once that is done,

I relax.

But there’s the matter of the paper.

Ready to go.

Where will it go?

Will anyone ever see it?

I log on to the net

And let my work reside there.