A poem for sensitive creative Leos
Posted by Shannon Cunningham on
Valuation
My friend Allan is a profoundly gifted writer
who lives with his parents in a small-town
and works a quiet job at the library
He writes with no interest in publication
and gains great satisfaction when he’s written something well
because he knows it
He doesn’t enter writing competitions
waiting for judges to judge him
trying to not be obsessed with the winners announcement date
and if he didn’t win even an honourable mention
he would never undertake a writers strike of one
Emily Carr was so devoted to her art
she had all her furniture on a pulley system
so she could turn whole rooms into studios
and her intimate relationships were with her animals
who would go with her to the woods
to sit with her while she painted
If an artistic program director
had taken young Emily into his office
to play God and tell her she was hopeless
that her style was overdone and parochial
she would have smiled and gave him the finger
Charles Bukowski toiled for years at the post office
and spent his nights writing gritty stories
Fame came to him late in life
He would show up at readings drunk and belligerent
and the epitaph he put on his headstone was “Don’t try”
meaning be your unapologetic self
Had he had friends he could show his stuff to
who would exclaim Incredible! and Powerful!
and then advise him to tweak a few things
He wouldn’t have edited a single word to please them
and turned it into something he couldn’t sign