Out of My Head – poem
Out of my head grow vines that hang
down and spread across the page
or pluck absentmindedly
at guitar strings.
Out of my head spring thoughts that dangle
ephemeral carrots of enlightenment;
pearls of wisdom that may or may not
have ever seen the inside of an oyster shell.
Out of my head creep words that splash,
images that hum, notes that spell
out the insides of me,
the parts I didn’t realize were there.
Out of my head the procession slows
and I know I need to step out
into the world and refill my pate
so I can go out of my head again.
As a writer and an artist I am asked ‘where do you get your ideas?’ (as I’m sure all writers/artists are asked). I just can’t put a finger on it. They’re just there in my head. I don’t know exactly where ideas originate. All I know is that if I don’t go out into the world with my senses on ‘receive’ every now and then, I stop generating ideas; or, at least, they stop coming or start repeating.
Kind of like the self-aware robot in the movie ‘Short Circuit’ I need “input”. Then somewhere inside my head someone hits the ‘blend’ button and it all gets smushed together and the fun begins; I start using the resulting ideas, images, words, notes to generate poetry, art, lyrics, music – out of my head! What a joyful mess!