Sometimes when the shite hits the fan (again) you need to use that damn stinky stuff for what it is intended – FERTILISER. ✊🏽
You get hold of that sloppy mess and mould it in to something wonderful, a dream that needs time, a message you need to spread or the book that is waiting to be written.
Some books won't wait. Some books weave their own jadoo so that anything that gets in the way of their creation, will be shoved to one side and if you don't listen then that pile on the side will maturate in to shite.
Then it will stink out your ifs, should and buts.
It will stink so loud, make your eyes sing 'hai rabba' and your nose dribble for mercy.
It will be a lingering stink that travels on the slightest breeze so at just the moment you feel you got it all together, it goes whoosh bang slap in a big messy slop.
Right over your life.
It will make you beg...
It will reply...
You listening NOW?
You listening to me NOW.
Write fucker. Write.
Hear me and write me until your fingers are raw torchlights melting plastic keys and searing through wood to lead.
Write me to the moment that you can't write me anymore.
I am going to exhaust you until you birth me like a wild howl in to blood red sky.
Expected publication: Summer 2019
A soul-full and uplifting field guide to writing out of our hearts and souls. Excavate the feral poetry that lies deep within.
This field guide will be crammed with inspiration, poetic words and practical creative writing activities and adventures, exploring the power of words to heal us and how they help us to live our truest and wildest lives.
Warning: Writing can seriously change your life for the better.
Imagineered by Dal Kular, curatrix of the SHE HOWLS open mics & writing circles, poem-maker, word-activist and facilitator of creative writing experiences for healing and transformation.
IMPORTANT GRATITUDE MESSAGE: Shite happened and I called my friends. My allies. My fellow rabble rousers. Believers and seers. And they helped untangle the spaghetti mess. They listened, dusted me off, strengthened my wings with duct tape and scaffolding. They reminded me of resilience. And of what I need to do in this fragmentary moment called life rather than the ifs, should and buts. THANK YOU mavericks and secret agents and brains, you know who you are. xo