
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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Homesick
I am homesick for Grammy’s kitchen And the round table that fit all seven of us With the midtone wooden cabinets and the orange carpet (Yes, orange carpet, an oddity surely) The north facing windows that looked out over the patio Where the green and white rockers waited. I’m homesick for her big yellow bowl…
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Extinction
I would like to apologize On behalf of my predecessors To the many creatures we carelessly exterminated Or hunted to extinction. I can’t imagine myself Feeling good about shooting The last of a species so It’s embarrassing to know there were some who Chased down the dodo, the moa, and the Japanese wolf The great…
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Ordinary Holiness
“He said to me, ‘Do not fear, greatly beloved; you are safe. Be strong and courageous!’ When he spoke to me, I was strengthened and said, ‘Let my lord speak, for you have strengthened me.’” Daniel 10:19 I watched the small boy suddenly realize He was alone in the crowd. His steps slowed, as his…
