I must admit that I am officially angry with myself and this experience. I seem to be incapable of putting words together. I am struck by this writer's block that is based completely on the situation of being committed. I don't have a fear of commitment exactly, but I do put myself under overwhelming pressure. I want to learn and grow from the experience and suddenly I am plagued with worries of not being good enough. When was being good enough ever relevant? There is some pressure that comes with the publication of my work, no matter how small the audience. The pressure is two fold. That of living up to the imaginary standards I believe they hold me to and that of having made a commitment to myself to do these poems daily. The public declaration makes it easier not to cheat but also more worrisome.

Currently I am two days behind and I find this very frustrating. Not only am I not producing poems according to the assignment, but I am not exploring the featured authors with the same intensity as I would like to be. Unfortunately the longer I go without posting a poem or featured author, the more backlogged I become. It might be easier if I just skipped a day and continued to look forward. But this feels like I am breaking the rules, not that there is any rules, but...I hope you know what I mean.

The hours in the day threaten me. And the housework, and the uncooperative children. I dream of putting the children to bed at 8 and having a blissful time shortly after of cleaning the house followed by some relaxing writing. Why do I continually delude myself like that? I think maybe we all do it though.

Day 5's Poetry Assignment

"Write a persona poem that incorporates one of the past two concepts. It should either address a social issue or it should provide a strong sense of place. One great way to do the latter is to write a poem in a public place, and to observe the people around you until you find someone interesting that you can imagine a back-story for."

I worked and worked on this really trying to create a story, but in the end the first little scribblings I did was the best work I did. After some minor revisions, I decided to just go with it. All of the content I generated will hopefully be included in some future poem. I spent a lot of the day playing around with my words, trying to see them in new ways. Special thanks to sbj for his initial unintended inspiration.

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She was alluring and mine.
A fairy of light;
Glowing.
Eyes pressed closed like flowers between the pages of a book
Reformed into the shape of a butterfly
With fluttering wings she blinked her eyes open.