Friday, June 17, 2011

A DAY after I slept over a poem that I wrote, it seemed to assume a new, refreshing character. When I wrote it, it’s trance-like, it had no shape—it was raw emotion. I don't rationalize my poems as words flow out of me when I was in the process of writing. I wrote my best poems in bursts of sporadic energy, maybe for 10 minutes. I couldn't even remember the exact motivational kick what instigated me to lay down words. The words just happened… afterwards, after a few days—like a seed that blossomed into a flower, I see the poem as a physical form.

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