
A lot of people will tell you to journal in order to process your feelings. It’s a worthwhile pursuit. I believe in the power of the written word, no matter who is doing the writing. But journaling, for me, was never really the way I wanted to express the things that I was feeling. So I turned instead to writing poems.
Sometimes the poems are exactly what I want to say on the first draft. Sometimes they require revision. Sometimes they are so bland and ordinary that there is nothing worth revising. Sometimes they say nothing of consequence. Sometimes they say everything in just a few words. Sometimes they ramble.
I haven’t written many poems over the past ten years, but occasionally, poetry feels like the best way to process what I’m feeling. I find that when the dark parts of life come to roost, a poem can say what I need to say better than any other media. In a poem, I can be honest and authentic in ways that I can’t in an essay, an open letter, a short story or a journal entry. I can draw the reader (and myself) further into my pain through a poem. I can show my true self. I can use it to heal.
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A Blessing for the Laity
God bless the laity Whose livelihood is not tied to budgets and attendence Who notice when you’re missing And tell you “you are loved.” God bless the laity Who don’t sit in meetings and make decisions Who recognize that they don’t know everything And tell you “you are loved.” God bless the laity Who are…
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Breathe
I hunted down an answer But when I had it in my hands I didn’t like the feel of it. It was slippery and unfinished In an oily kind of way that had me Wondering who had birthed it. It didn’t seem like something that should Breathe. I kept it anyway Putting it up on…
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What Hurts Me
What hurts me is the same as what hurts you The feeling I’ve been used The shifting glance disguising truth. The words you say behind my back When pot calls kettle black. The names you use against me When you purposely offend me. Pretending all is well While we both stew in hell. What hurts…
