Sea of Puddles

I have spoken before about poetry having a life of its own, and I feel I should elaborate on this statement.
I can wake with the remnants of subconscious words, and I have taken to recording them before I rise. The day fades that dreamlike message until I get the opportunity to return to that recording and write. I cannot count how many thoughts, therefore poems, have been lost before I adopted this practice. I would recommend that all writers who experience fleeting thoughts in a similar manner should do as I do. Often, devoid of ideas, staring at a blank page, I suddenly write a line that came out of the ether, and it grows legs until it has the structure of a new poem.
I believe poetry is driven by the collective emotions of the past, present, and future and, as such, is not the exclusive property of just my mind or even just my world.

Kevin Robinson