So you see, I’m at a stage in my life where I want to
Down size
Let go
Live lean
Be mindful
Buy experiences, not things
Remember – there is always just enough
I want to consciously consume
Have a capsule wardrobe
Feel that every little thing I own sparks joy and puts spring in my step
keep one shelf in my house absolutely empty
Remove the junk drawer
Handmake my skincare
Wear no cosmetics
Think nose to tail, organic
Or better, vegetarian
Better still, go vegan
Make from scratch
I’m on a path to minimalism
But
I stumbled across a barren word desert
I copywrote the fibres out of my song!
When instead I should be indulgent in my poetry
This is the one place in my being where economy should not apply
Words should spill over the edges and fall out of the sky
Letters should clutter and be left out to spoil
or transform
In my mind I can burn my words till they rise to a better place, water them, shed light on them and let them rot to dust where they make rich soil for new ones
Let there be lots of words
Stuff my head with them, until they spew out from my jaws and make my throat ache
Words can tumble and rumble
Coil and untie
Whisper and cry
Appear and multiply
They can pile on each other
Go in weird orders or combinations
And even be obscured
And become monsters or creations
It was a mistake to sweep them away
let them disappear
I cannot let it happen again, for fear
It will close my mind
Silence my voice
Tie my hands
Lock my heart
Block my ears
Dry up my tears
Words are the one currency
That can move
Me
Them
Mountains
And words are free
I can use them till my very last breath
There are no limitations
When it comes to these monsters or creations
And while they might disappoint, or contradict
Surprise or cause conflict
Maybe reconcile, unhinge, unlock or unite
I can let someone else inside my brain
I can feel interconnected like an intercity train
My words may miss the mark, or hit the nail in the middle of the eyes
Each word has a beginning and each word a last letter
I must let my words be born, breathe life and love into them
for
Words are my children
Like my genes, I can pass them on – but with one extra quality
words
will
never
die
Miss Qwerty 