I started sharing a lot of poetry via my blog. I’ve tapered back again, not because I’m not sharing but because I’m not writing poetry as much. You know, sometimes you have poetry and sometimes you don’t. Right now I don’t, and I’m okay with that. When I was sharing, I got alot of feedback, so that helps. 6 years ago
Is buffered by Prozac; first admission.
No, that’s a lie, because I ran out.
So this is fueled by malt liquor.
I will only start to share my memories
Of melancholy, blue sadness and depression.
A swig, and here I go: as a young boy,
I had no inkling of what I felt, only loneliness.
The other kids left me alone or beat me, kicked me.
The only relief was to hang out on the edges.
By the age of twelve I began to think of death.
I had no idea how, only that death seemed an easier path.
My mother taught me that if Jesus could deal with his fate,
Then I could deal with mine; I bought this for the time being.
Fantasies of torture basements where I’d get back at mine enemies
Gave me some secret relief, but I grew tired of hating.
A man is not supposed to cry; a Catholic’s not supposed to want
to die, so I was between a rock and a hard, sharped edged place.
I still wonder to this day why I haven’t yet killed a man.
And must thank my mum she taught me Jesus’ loving plan.
In high school a jock revealed his knowing Buddha,
not harming life he woulda tried and true:
So I kept to the hard and rocky path to salvation,
And made of all the world my nation.
I’m not a rich or famous man today by any stretch of your imagination.
But I know I took the right path and it gives me satisfaction.
I still mourn and sorrow but now not just for myself.
I offer up my sadness to the love of others, for their help.
Depression doesn’t have to end in self-destruction.
You can make your way and manage to function.
(First published March of 2006 on allpoetry, an online magazine for poets of all ages). 8 years ago
I do keep a blog where I share poetry, but not alot of people read my blog or comment yet…
But yesterday I pulled three poems off my blog to share with one of my writing groups. Another guy had shared a poem he wrote for the girl he loves, and to encourage him I sent on the three in a series I wrote for my husband. Lots of people had comments on the guy’s poem (mostly negative, poor guy; I understood it) but not a single comment has come through on mine yet. I guess no comment is still better than “Ugh, I hate it, why do you write poetry?” but it’d be nice to get some feedback! 9 years ago
It’s hard to share poetry. It is more emotional, more vulnerable than my fiction or articles. And I’m not exactly a world-class poet either. I’m still learning, playing with forms, just writing to get things out of my head. But I’m in a couple of on-line writing groups, so I can share and maybe get good feedback too. 9 years ago