7/28/20: An inventory of recent pieces at the end of something on the brink of something new … #poetry #essay #PoeticEssay #improvisation

7/28/20: An inventory of recent pieces at the end of something on the brink of something new … #poetry #essay #PoeticEssay #improvisation

What is improvisation? What is poetry? What is essay? For me, I guess they are whatever I say that they are.

The journey of the artist transcends rules, expectations, forms and groups …

Choice has nothing to do with it …

Art is a process of fulfillment …

Universal life expressed in my specific voice …

something to be followed …

I write what I don’t know …

reason comes in later and makes sense of what happened

a serene eye in the middle of a swirl of anxious pain and confusion

faith in a clarity

unknown to my mortality

whispering, shouting and singing to my immortality

Society is an absurd Rube Goldberg contraption

Natural life is something else

Without my art, I’d have no life at all

My essence would be usurped by submission and rebellion to false masters

conning and bullying me to consider the unimportant

to be crucial

The new thing?

A major change is near

what is it?

It won’t announce itself

I’ll just  say or do something

that I will later understand to be quite major and important

Success, recognition are not remotely the thing

they are secondary

What is primary

is the thing

the joyful

complex images

perceived with innocent simplicity



and persistent

I am open and ready and prepared

not for mere inspiration

but for natural life

The experience of a lifetime

becomes the experience of telling its story

all communities and formats


and separate from old impurities

more than unique

more than original

Simply true

If there is any encouragement

that I can give the reader

to apply to their own lives

And what use is art if you can’t make those applications?

I write tonight especially for those who are nearly ready

to go their own way


by bosses

and peers

and teachers

and audiences

Releasing themselves

from how you go about it

how you do it

Sick of being told as to what matters to them

Hurt by a rejection that they don’t understand

Naive to the aims and ideas of other people

Rebellious against anyone else’s definitions of who they are

and what the world is

Restless and alone

Filled with desire for I-don’t-know-what

Strenuously pushing planks and boulders

off of their chests and legs

Choking on dirt and dust

Gestating and going into labor

Uncertain of what they delivered

and ultimately crying tears of delight

totally in love

awed and afraid

worrying about their creation’s fate

nurturing it

defending it

being exasperated by it

fighting it

giving yourself to its development

and ultimately letting it go

allowing it its freedom

accepting and loving whatever it becomes.

Copyright 2020 Richard Thomas

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