DARING TO BE REAL

Why do I write? This is an almost
meaningless question to me.
It hints of unique reasons, problems,
or assignments as motivation. Some ask,
"Do you get paid or make money."
NO! Than would rob me of my motivation.
Why do I write?
It's not to juggle cute and weird
metaphors I, nor anyone else, understands;
used for hiding, confusing, fostering
guessing and acquiring the meaningless
trophy of "GREAT." That is okay for others
who enjoy such stages of attainment and applauds;
I respect each person's place in their desired world.
Yes, I stray into it from time to time, no big deal.
In my writings, which are more than poetic
escape avenues need to come out of hiding
and be real, honest, and fearless; only truth
frees totally when the last curtain is drawn.
I am committed to coming out of hiding, taking
off shame garments, and be naked me,
speaking only for myself.
I can't live your experiences vicariously
no matter how eloquent or metaphorical
they may be, and conversely no more than you
can live mine. So I write what I think, feel, lust
honestly after. My REALITY is what my real is.
Thus, I write not to please a judge, group, or
expert. I write to stay alive, open, honest, and real.
[I have developed my writer's attitude based on my
mentor, Charles "Henry" Bukowski"s works]