If You Were Given All You Desired (An Old Poem) & My Journey With Poetry

If you were given all your desired
Would you just grow tired
And ask for more past what you got
And just keep asking for more, and more, and never stop
Never stop to wonder why you want what you yearn for
Just keep repeating MORE MORE 
Would you leave Earth mad?
Mad because all you had wasn’t enough, All you had!
Not thinking of what you did possess 
Not thinking of the one’s who had less
Or are you really better than them all
Are you better then the baby who will starve
Do you deserve more than her, but why?
You must realize we all die
We all smile, breathe, hate, and cry
Then why
Should anyone have more than any other?
I think it is because we don’t truly love one another

- Me at 14 (2005)

My Childhood & Poetry

When I was growing up the bottom shelf of our pantry was full of notebooks and marbled composition books (left overs and extras for school). Around age 13 or 14 I started grabbing them to use as poem notebooks. I continued this habit until I left for college at 18. I never spoke to my family or any of my friends about my poem journals. If someone came in while I was writing in one, I hid it.

My poems hadn’t always had this level of secrecy. Or at least my first one didn’t. I can’t remember if I showed my mom or she simply found it (it may have been for a school assignment), but when I was 12 my mom read my first poem. I remember clearly how much she seemed to love it. How impressed she seemed. I felt proud of what I had created!

I believe her encouragement and enthusiasm for that first poem probably freed me to believe in myself, and continue writing. I am very grateful for what she gave to me in that moment. As poetry allowed me to maintain a voice to myself throughout my childhood.

And when I stumbled across my poetry journals a year or so ago, I discovered they were also invaluable time machines. They allow my adult self to hear my child self speak. I wanted to read back through them all, and I noticed the pencil on the pages was smearing. So I decided to type them all up into a word document. It took me about a year to transfer them all. And it seems it will take me about another year to rewrite my favorite one’s down again by hand. This time in a few beautiful journals – I love the designs of the Peter Pauper journals.

Me Today & Poetry

As I move forward in my journey, I am unsure what place poetry will have in my life. When I was growing up all the words I wrote were solely for myself. Often my poems focused on interpreting the meaning of what I was seeing in my mind or feeling in my heart. Some rhymed, most didn’t. My poems were the place I felt free to express myself authentically and to observe and process what I found inside of myself. When I started writing poems again, about 2 years ago, they seem to have naturally followed the same pattern from my earlier years. The same purpose, the same style, the same intended audience.

But could I expand my poetry, could I also consider other readers? If I write poems with a reader (besides myself) in mind the focus probably should shift more to sharing what I see in my mind and feel in my heart. The beauty and the truth I believe does lie in that- not my interpretation of my inner world. My interpretation is helpful to myself, it has a more practical focus.

I would like to open my mind more to the reader, and give my reader the freedom to have their own experience of my poem. I have been practicing “show not telling” with my words. Yet, it feels like a tall mountain to climb. I am comfortable with myself as my reader, and familiar with that style of writing. I feel self-conscious to start writing poems from a different approach and sharing those poems. I know so little about the art form, and the skills that lead to a poem being impactful in the hearts of others. Do I even desire to write “differently”, to write “for a reader”? I think I do. I think I’d like to give it a shot. But my fear holds me back from diving into practicing and sharing.

My Blog

As I move forward in my journey, I am also finding I have uncertainty about my blog. Do I post more and share more, but with less focus? Or do I post less, and in a more focused way? Should I set some sort of schedule? What’s my goal for this space anyway? Wait, do I even need a goal?

My time is more limited now than when I first started this blog. My kids both stopped taking daily naps. I miss having the time to really get into the flow of blogging. I had gotten into that state with this post, and it’s gone….as my kid’s have come down the steps with a million words after getting out of the bath my husband was giving them.

I do find documenting my journey month to month in my (“Where I have been” posts) helps me get my inner self organized. ** It is also nice to look back on those updates. When I am in the thick of life, I rarely feel I am on any sort of good “path” forward. Yet on reading back through my updates, I see the outlines of a path I am on. That brings me some confidence and peace, in where I stand today and in the choices I make today. I am starting to trust this journey. Trust that I am being guided to where I need to be. Trust that my job is to keep an open heart/mind to that inner guide, so I can feel the next necessary steps, and take those steps forward.

** I did write monthly updates in April and May. I will post those soon.

I’ll Bind Myself

Many afternoons
I've promised evening. 
I'll bind myself in boldest black,
On brightest white.

I bet you think it's fear
When each morning I reveal 
Fresh layer, 
Winter white   

But I declare, 
I feel despair
For I have found 
There is no me to tie down

Just these rattling straights and curves
Fooling you into belief
There is something underneath 
Finally!

March 2022


 
 

The Gender Of Love

I have determined the gender of love.
The world gathers round.
Some pray tearfully,
Some joyfully,
Some don't pray at all.
 
Watching sun descend,
I set the heavy book on altar.
It's two hands are weak
Against sensations held within.

She's there! 

Rising out of written words
On decaying paper she dances. 
Converting ancient language to newborn song,
Telling of her longing.
Her gently luscious voice 
Is the vibrations of the world.
Waves of us
Fall to our knees,
But right before we propose ourselves and the world 

She stills and shifts to He.

A stone who grows in height. 
And in his flight
Turns his head.
Left and pausing 
Right and pausing.
Then looks down, and bends to page
And with a pen
Records her song again.
Adding in how all will be achieved
Loyalty to life.
His instructive words
Are the math of the world. 
Waves of us
Fall to our knees,
But right before we propose ourselves and the world 

He stills and shifts to She. 
 
Some pray tearfully,
Some joyfully.

(September 2021)

I Find Love

I find love to be a complex thing 
Yes, even the love Christ brings 
He says he loves me 
But how could that be  
For most of me is faithfully unkind 
I guess he's simply paid me no mind
He replies what is me is past what is seen
I lie in unmanifestable dream - eternally clean
I've paused more, mined silences, surveyed what's within
I've never seen anything other than darkness and Him 

(December 2021)

You Have Forgotten Who You Are

You have forgotten who you are.
But I haven’t. 
Some part of God
Lost to love.

But your heart beats,
Listen!
It will guide you back, 
You say to “death!” 
And I agree
As all paths lead
Certainly to destiny.

But if we hold to love,
Through the darkest paths of fear.
We may find a death
With breathe

Our immortality

(August 2021)

Today I Found Those Beautiful Words (Poem)

Today I found those beautiful words
I scan fast 
And ignore
An ode to a mother 

The praise, the tenderness, 
The love 
Expressed with feeling I am sure 
But serves as whiteout to my soul

What pain it must be 
That transforms love to enemy

It steals my heart 
It steals my words 
It steals my mind 

A weight so heavy 
I drift off
Into that world that saved me 
When you were my mother