I put the pen down and picked up my paint brush.
I painted for seven hours straight with no food and no water to drink.
I was focused.
Intent on creating something no one has ever seen.
And when I stepped back... a bitch had some weird swirls on the canvas staring back at me.
Muddied colors and weak structure.
"This is shit, and I'm shit for creating it"
I shook my head and tossed it in the pile with the rest of the half painted masterpieces.
I picked up my pen and tried to write but only cliches came out.
Regurgitated information twisted with paraphrases.
"Shit... this is garbage too."
I thought to myself, "What can I do right?"
I can't write.
I can't paint.
So I laid in bed and wrote this.
Half baked poem with no rhyme scheme.
It's really just me talking.
Welcome to the Half Baked poetry series.
I'm Zera and I am a creative. Like many creatives I know, I hit writer's block about two years ago.
I started to feel depressed. I wanted to create but writing was becoming less relief and more frustration. I started learning to play an instrument. I started painting. Shit, I even was in my kitchen mixing with the stir fry. I was hoping learning and practicing new skills would spark my creativity (surprise, it didn't).
I realized I was avoiding facing my truth. I identified as a poet. Without poetry, who am I? Am I still Zera? Am I less? Am I more? I stripped down my psyche and in the meantime, I tried to remain in a positive, creative space.
Slowly, I got back into writing; little poems and snippets of clever lines started coming back to mind. I'd jot them down and they would sit untouched for months on end. A combination of laziness and writer's block had me avoiding editing. They were half thought out, half baked poems.
Creative people are often perfectionists. I'm no exception to that rule. At the time I wrote them, I was embarrassed to share them. I felt they were not good enough. They were too raw. They were emotionally messy, the rhymes were weak, and they had serious cliffhangers because I couldn't find the right ending. These poems and blurbs display my vulnerability and the reality of writing through tough times.
A month ago, I decided I would share 7 of them.
As I look back on my half baked poems, I find growth and beauty. I hope you find the reality beautiful in each of the poems I'll be sharing.