The poem Lighthouse was written minutes before it was posted. It was inspired by some channel surfing on TV. On one channel, someone said, “you are a fucking lighthouse” on the next was a commercial about stroke prevention, where someone said it felt as if their “brain trickled out of their head.”

I felt a surge of inspiration, but I didn’t have my journal close (read: I was too lazy to go and pick it up from my bedroom – two flights of stairs up).

And so, a tissue (Kleenex, lol) had to do.

This is one of the many poems that were written impulsively and within mere minutes. Other poets could have gotten something else, more polished or in-depth out of this, but not me.

My poetry comes straight from the heart; if I have to work for it, the poem will never see the light of day.

You see? Most of my poems are written like this: sudden inspiration, writing it down, choosing if it is worth posting or not.

I am not one who edits and rewrites their poems. They are all first and last drafts. And unless there is a typo or blatant error in my grammar, it will not change.

Granted, there are exceptions to the rule. For example, when I can’t find the word that fits just right – if I find a better synonym while writing it in an app (this one included), the poem will be slightly altered, but never a lot.

Another layer peeled away,

Cathy

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