here are some poems I wrote
Here, in the end-dream,
Life strikes its final note
But there’s no sadness.
For the moment I have
Arrived
But I suspect my journey
Is not over
Search,
and you will find me
Wandering up the banks of a stream
On
Mount
Wu-Tai
I read the second poem, then wrote this:
I’m more patient than my boredom.
I watch it come in and try to stink up the place
But even my boredom
Soon gets bored and leaves.
At first, I thought creativity meant
making something complicated
Later, I realized it takes more creative power
To make the complicated simple.
Artists are often seen
As these very complex people
But they are actually really simple people
Since they have reached the point
Where they don’t have to think about it anymore
There’s a whole world out there,
But I’ve come to the point where I just love
Being with my same, old, self.
The genius with which the artist makes his work is his permission to himself to do so.
