Trust vs Fear: the creative writer’s dilemma


I creep around, spying other’s glory

through shrouds of envy and spite.

I stress, I spew belligerent bile,

I despoil what feels my birthright.



If you only knew what your heart could spill.

If you only could allow

those creative gales to transform your gall

into work that makes you feel proud.



That gale just feels like a deadly whip

that will beat my words to a pulp,

reducing me to a limping pace

while the rest of the world can gallop.



Gallop implies a race to somewhere

while your journey is yours alone.

Pick supreme, your heart’s main theme,

and you’ll romp to the place called home.


A poem for Day 14 of NaPoWriMo 2015: A dialogue

A poem about doing what you love

Do what you love

and the money will come.

That’s what we hope

when we chuck it all in

for a new career and life

and fulfilment’s great charm.

The pursuit of money.

Is that really what life’s for?

Or realising a dream,

a do-it-or-damned score?

I know what I want

before I bid goodbye

to my breath.

That’s to publish and be whole.

To bring openness to heart

and hope to the soul.