Continuing my Year of No Fear series. Today I’ll talk about poetry.
I’ve been writing poetry since I was 11. That’s when I discovered free verse. Free verse is freeing, and it’s still my favorite type of poetry to write. My first poem, which was published in our middle school paper, was a free-verse poem about unicorns (I had an obsession with unicorns for most of my childhood.) I didn’t write many poems, and sort of dropped it until high school when I had my first real crush, my first real boyfriend, and my first real heartbreak. My poetry muse seems to thrive when I’m unhappy. Not the most healthy thing, but writing poetry is very cathartic. And fun.
When I met my ex-husband, I actually wrote happy poems about our eternal, undying love. Love that lasted eight years and turned into a nightmare. During our breakup and subsequent divorce, I wrote some of my best work. I needed desperately to make sense about what happened, as well as make peace with it. The poems I wrote during this time resulted in one of my poetry chapbooks, Without Wings.
When I was searching for answers on a medical condition (which was eventually diagnosed as fibromyalgia and intractable vertigo), I wrote poetry to again, make sense of things. To have a place to channel the fear, anger, and grief. For the results of that writing, check out Life as a Moving Target, my first poetry chapbook.
So I’ve always written poetry, and with a few exceptions, I haven’t written any in years. I fear that I’ve lost the ability. So one of my goals this year was to write more poetry.
I’ve written about 6 poems and edited 2 existing drafts so far. I feel like I’m starting from square one, from a place of not writing poetry. I just haven’t been in the mindset. I think you need to be open to the possibilities, the turns of phrase and inspiration. I began writing down every single phrase that remotely sounded cool for a poem and used those as a starting point. I think they aren’t the best they can be, but I am trying to be kind to myself. Expecting perfection will only make my muse shut down and not give me anything at all. I’ll work up to it. And I’ll keep trying. Because poetry is an important part of who I am, and I miss it.
So, I’ve started. Hopefully I can continue. I’ll leave you with this. It’s part of a draft that I actually like.
You tried to break me
but I broke you instead
I broke you out of my thoughts
I stripped you from my soul
I shattered the dreams of you and me
I turned my back on the past
and its calling
oh how it calls
and oh how I don’t answer
There is much, much more to come.