I am writing again. Kinda.

The other day (last year), while speaking with Servio on the phone, I realised that there is a book project which I could be part of. I told him to sign me up for it. But there’s a big problem. I couldn’t tell him that I had forgotten how to write anything. The closest thing to writing that I do these days is to reply emails.

My imagination has grown weak. And sadly, I have found very little to feed it with. So, I have decided to go back to the basics. Go back into writing the same way I got into it. I’ll basically write like a junior secondary school student who has not been exposed to the intricate rules and evils of literature. At the end of the month, I hope I have enough poems to submit to Servio for editing and hopefully, he’ll find some of the poems worthy enough to make it into the book.

So, I’ve been writing weak, personal poems such as this:

Hey Muse,

I’ve never had much use

For you, in the six years

I’ve known you.

This is because

I’ve always found a way

To make me feel precious,

By locking myself

Away in the vaults

Of my thoughts.

And it took a Shane poem

To unlock me from such solemn

But slow spiral of decay.

I am sure it was Shane,

Because I had shared

His poems with you.

Yesterday when I asked,

“Did you like him???”

You wore an expression

I couldn’t see but sensed

An expression the lack of early morning sunlight

And the lack of my glasses denied me.

But your voice did well to convey

Your disbelief in my folly

“Of course you knew

I’d like him.

I love him.”

Sweet Muse

That was all I needed from you.

And though the pronoun “him”

was not used in place of the noun “me”

I’ll claim the happiness attached.

And if you never say those words to me,

I’ll relive that moment forever.

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