Long Hours

They ask me “how do you live a creative life?”

I answer “you must always make the time.”

When I was a sophomore in high school, I begun to win awards for my writing, both named and anonymous. I decided in that year of flourish that I never wanted to depend on my writing to feed me, for some years may only yield famine. Now most of my time is devoted to my non-creative work, but it works for me. Long lapses of time, open for the taking of writing are oft wasted. Stolen moments create beauty. Balance, however, is always tipped. I’m both a highly creative and highly logical person. Energy from both sides of my brain must be released. Long work hours overflow into creative time, bottling up the energy inside until it combusts into frustrated exhaustion. Wasted energy spills over, watering the ground with untended ideas, my garden overgrows.

 

Merely Contemplating

You were a tap upon my shoulder
Knocked on the door, so
I let you inside

I realize now it only works
That I had
A lot of time

Usually I run away
The second someone
Breaks in

With you
I’m already far away
You had time to settle in

My fear wore off
Panic faded
Away, I caught my breath

Overthinking
Over enough time
Is merely contemplating

Love poem

Reading poetry, I realize
I’m seeking a love poem, yours and mine
It’s a poem I’m never going to find
Unless I take the time to sit and write

Poems talk about longing
timing, knowing it’s right
letting someone go
or keeping them by your side

Poets write about forever
as a moment in time
that they’re together,
but that’s not you and I

Our moments are fleeting
Mere graspings at air
Fill your lungs up, keep breathing
Until next time I’m there

One poem says love stories have two sides
so far I only know mine
I can’t wait to see the movie
Draw all the parallel lines

I saw one poem apologize
I’m sorry, I know I’m late
To our love song
Thank you for waiting

You wouldn’t have liked me
If I came back then
We were both too reckless
Love would have met an end

I hope someday you tell me
that a part of you’s always known
so I’m not the only one who’s crazy
But if I am, just play along

All the heartbreak and the pain
Has made me very tired
I don’t see the point of fighting anymore
For someone who doesn’t set my soul on fire

The last poem was a beautiful line
Says you capture him in poetry
Since you can’t have him in real life
God, I hope this one is a lie

Seven Pieces of the Soul

Happy Valentine’s Day! This piece could use a bit of editing, but I wanted to go ahead and share my latest musings on soulmates.

The Legends say our hearts are made of soul stuff. Your soulmate is someone whose soul stuff matches yours. As we all know, you can only be true soul mates if all of our soul stuff matches. Many people are happy in relationships where say 5 of the seven pieces of your soul match, these relationships are called “soulmatches” and while inferior to the strength of a bond of a soulmate, the bond can sometimes outlast a volatile soulmate connection.

There are seven different parts to your soul, from what you’re passionate about, to your favorite lazy Sunday, to whether or not you prefer professional sports to long train rides, etc. Most people are common, or “basic”, as it was defined in the early twenty-first century, long before we knew the science of soul stuff. For the basic, finding a soulmate is rather easy, as most people’s soul stuff is compatible with theirs. They might have many options for soulmatches or soulmates. For the rare unicorn, all seven pieces of their soul exist on different planes. They have spherical souls.  They may have up to seven different types of soulmates, with each one only able to fulfill one section of their soul, perhaps slightly satisfying the adjacent soul section. It is difficult for them to be with the basic, as what fulfills the need of the basic soul is only one part of the spherical soul. For two of these spherical souls to both find each other and align is exceedingly rare.

With Love,

Jesse

Patterns

So many times
This pattern repeats
I let myself fall apart
For a couple of weeks

Then I come back to life
Put my head on straight
Pick up all the pieces
Over a couple of days