
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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The Child Inside
Today, I told my kids I hated them Even though that could never be true. And something happened as soon as I said it As the room went quiet and I walked away Shutting myself in the bedroom to wrestle With the emotions that had made me say That horrible lie. The reason I said…
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The Last Words
“I’ll buy,” he said, though he didn’t have His wallet. Or his phone. Or his keys. He hardly had his voice, Most of who he was, stolen, Ripped away from him, and us, As a tide of “what the hell” Washed us all out into the sea of dread. Of doubt. Of disbelief. Of discontent.…
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Haikus for Tired Moms
A simple pleasure Is a greater treasure than All the gold on earth. It is too early To listen to your screaming. Please put on your shoes. Who bought all these toy? Does anyone clean but me? Dear God; what is that? This is your dinner. Eat it or don’t. It’s your choice. You can’t…
