An Insight To My “Creative” Brain.

I often receive questions about the inspiration for my poetry and I’ve never quite known the perfect response to give. Today however, I’m going to give you an insight to what my thought process is like most of the time.

A few days ago, I had switched off my lights to go back to bed at 6 in the morning. One would assume that as a responsible member of the society, this would be the time where I hit the shower, grab a cup of coffee and embark on the new day’s journey. I’m sorry to completely destroy your perception of me. The truth is, you couldn’t be more far off from my reality.

Anyway, my usual bedtime ritual includes going through my half written poetry/prose/stories in my notes aiming to either complete them, delete them or be inspired by them. On said day, I didn’t do any of the above, I went straight into my notes to write about switching off my lights. See, I recently got glow in the dark stars and so my favourite thing to do is turn off the lights and just lie in bed smiling at the ceiling. This time, I wasn’t just going to smile at my stars while I let my mind wander, I was going to write about them because that’s what creatives do…right?

“You lit up my room
Like you light up my face
Like you light up my world”

Those were the first three lines that came to my mind and I quickly typed them up. Could this be the beginning or the end or the middle of my new poem? Is ‘light up my face” a better phrase than “light up my eyes”? Shall I say “light” or “lit”. “Like you lit up my world” does this mean he is dead? Or have we broken up? Was this break up smooth or rough? Was this an agreement we both came to? Did I love this person? Of course I did he lit up my world. Okay but did he know? Who is he even? Do people need to know him or does that move the focal point from my stars to a man? Do I miss him? There’s no point reminiscing if I didn’t so yes, I miss you and I could also be sad and empty – a possible continuation. Hmm…

“Do you think about me when the lights go out?”

Another line that comes to mind so I quickly type it up. Damn how do I make this relevant? It does sound like an appropriate way to begin a poem. It’s a question, I like questions, do you? Right so at what point do I talk about my room being dark? Do I have to mention switching off the light or shall we just infer that? What other poems have I written with similar starts to them? I’d hate to sound repetitive. Hmm…

“Twinkle twinkle little stars
Of course I don’t wonder what you are,
I acquired you, protected you”

This sounds like a new start to me. I better move “do you think of me when the lights go out” to a new note. That’s going to be a different poem about nostalgia. I’m excited now. What exactly did I protect these stars from? At what point do I tell my readers these are glow in the dark stars? Shall I allow them come to that conclusion themselves? Could I just make this one of those abstract poems that don’t really make sense but make sense at the same time? Once again, how do I join this up with the first three lines I came up with? Also, if my stars are “you” then it’s got to be “like he lit up my face, like he lit up my world” but who is he? How did he light up my room? Shall I explain this too? How long is this poem? Hmm…

“Sheltered you away from the light
Because I wasn’t ready
For you to absorb and illuminate back
I’m afraid of change,
Please cut me some slack”

Now I love this because at this point I don’t know if I’m still talking about stars or a man, genius. Although, I don’t see how this is related to my first three lines but I must use that by force. What am I even doing writing about glow in the dark stars while my mates are writing about nature – the sun, prominent in the skies and the gradual increase in temperatures, an invite blossoming flowers openly accept. But look at me and my fake stars that literally steal other people’s shine.

Okay one last semi complicated line before I go to sleep. I’ll deal with this on a different day.

“Random array of stars with no real hmm…

Stars plastered all around my slanted ceiling
With no real pattern, no actual hmm…
There is no method to this madness

*look for a word that ends with ‘ess’ and make a semi sensible line here*

I’ve been taught that light could be a particle or a wave
But today and for a while now,
Light was him
He lit up my room like he lit up my eyes
Like he lit up my world.”

Time for bed. I’ll deal with this on a different day or month or year. My eyes are shutting now and I hate when I sleep off half way through a sent…

Goodnight,
A