A (F)ilosophy for Creative Writing, Progress

The Irony

I’m the monthly conversationalist on my blogs of late, I don’t know why – maybe it took this long to find my own authentic voice. Oh the Irony! Maybe I have exceeded the realms of prejudgement and nowadays I feel quite accomplished as the Poet, I have curated thousands of word adaptations, thanks to I-Ching theory. Or maybe it is thanks to a little help from a magazine, which became part of my life in January 2017. There are so many reasons why we do what we do.

The poems I’ve shared these recent months were triggered by combining some poor French translation, and the reading of a few blogs by Jules Evans, the Author of The Philosophy of Life, and inclusive of the painful process of bleeding onto the paper as the self-less poet.

Don’t worry that is just a metaphorical exaggeration, Poets are very dramatic you know.

When I write that Poets can be very dramatic, I realise that I am not a natural poet. I think I will be forever learned and I am certainly experimenting with I-Ching and being a being much of a randomness. If it worked for Alice-in-Wonderland and the Rabbit Hole why not me. I often have to remind myself, it was just a fantasy tale, not real life!

If you read enough books, you can become lost within them. Just like computer games, and social media.

Creativity is an adventure of exploration, questioning, and the collaboration of ideas, minds and many forms. However, we have to remember as Writer’s that we must stay grounded and remain within the essence of reality too.

My partner recently said, “I think you write for yourself!” A prolific statement considering he has never read any of my poetry to date. This may seem like a salty response, but he was and still is right. In acknowledging that fact, I know I do write poetry for myself, for if a poem has one single reader, then it is a poem that has been read and my poetry serves a purpose to me, and in turn by sharing it here on this voluntary platform, I hope it shares a purpose for you too.

[Don’t tell my husband that I agreed with him, or I shall never live it down.]

Recently, I have begun to question “Why do I choose to share my poetry on a blog so frequently?” This was never about my ego, it was never about selling a product to the world. So why do it at all? If I am writing for me, why not keep it all locked up in a tidy little journal? Keep all of the words to myself, for my eyes only.

My answer is short,

Why was the lightbulb invented? If we were never meant to see in the dark.

Poetry is a very ‘philosophical’ subject matter, especially for sharing words and ideas. I recognise a lot of poetry in spiritual and religious works.  Sometimes, poetry slows the mind of the reader. It can often only be read slowly and a number of repetitive times to allow the reader to think and maybe find a little peace for themselves. Poetry reading can be quite a process of meditation in my own experience.

While I continue to meditate through the writing of poetry, I will keep on blogging.

Who wouldn’t want to read a bit of poetry if it allows for you to make an informed opinion for yourself. Although, if I am quite honest, I don’t think my own poetry generates informed answers, my style is more the catapult for variety that mixes up ideas and merges them together, embedding new connections and individual-personal- imagery for the reader.  Just as a full and happy life requires the ability to adapt, merge, embed, and connect whilst maintaining a sense of individual self. Have you managed it so far? I often think I have, then something new crops up.


The drama, the randomness, the many thoughts and the irony have been shared with you this month thanks to the music of Alanis Morrissette and more whilst listening to BBC Radio of course. I have still been taking a nosey at the book by Darrieussecq, a french book about a baby, and I’ve been digging into Children’s Classics, the Renaissance and Modern Women’s Poetry, which isn’t so modern! I may post a review or two on Good Reads soon.

There is a value and an irony in being feminine and writing, which may not be for everyone, but it works for me as a Writer.

Someone recently said to me “When I come back in the next life, I want to be a man, they have such an easy life. All they have to worry about is themselves.” To which I replied, “No thank you, I would rather be a tree.” This was my simple and quick response.


Like most of my life experiences and with a little after-thought thanks to writing and editing, I wish I had said to her. “Why do you have to be a man to only worry about yourself? Why not give this way of life a try for yourself?”

I recently gave this a try and learned a lot.

Verdalibre, Philosopher, currently out and about mining Emeralds.



J. Spencer, June – August 2018. Creative Writing and One Writer’s Progress






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