Poetry

Photo by Nicolas Messifet

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.

  • This Desperate Sadness

    I can’t escape you When I see a car like yours I always search the driver’s seat but It’s never you. Or I read a piece of fiction Thinking of the conversation It would generate until I remember I won’t see you today For reasons that are hurtful. I sit outside Watching the cabbage whites…

  • A Safe Space

    Sometimes you find someone who makes you feel so safe that you can share anything. I have a few friends like that, and I am always thankful for them. We sat at the river And I watched the slow sparkling of its waters Dancing in the fading light As the red of sunset was just…

  • The Conversation

    Relationships are hard, and as a dear friend once counseled me, they are two-way. This poem says it all. Underneath all the love I have Is a sea of questions I never asked I was afraid to peel back my layers And let you see the dark thoughts in my heart. I still fear I…