Ever since the end of November, I have done very little writing. I tend to get emotionally and mentally very wrapped in up things during the Xmas season...and this year was no exception...in fact it was one of the worst Christmases I've ever had in some ways...but in other words the most 'maturing' Xmas for awhile.
Well, today I wrote a poem. I started reading the draft I stopped writing in November, and am seeing passages that are good enough to motivate me to keep writing, even if I do get that job I applied to.
One good thing about emotional ups and downs - it helps you to see life from all sorts of different perspectives.
Here is my poem, slightly edited:
SPEAKING OF
I dreamed I gave you a box of books
And the next morning
you were throwing them all away.
More than the hurt,
I was desperate for those books.
If you aren’t going to use them...
And some were important books
I needed them -
I had to have them -
They were key pieces
of memories, dreams,
special moments
of which I
can’t
let
go.
In the end I couldn’t decide
which ones to keep,
which to throw away.
Sifting through so many
titles, ideas, words...
Throw all the words in the trash.
An adolescent fantasy
of never having to talk again
It’s so hard just to talk to people
to be in front of people
So thank you,
For throwing the words away
They were just hiding something else
too important,
too sacred,
too divine
to be considered in something
as crude and as inaccurate
as language.
They will never, ever show
what I really want to say.
COMMENTS ARE WELCOME.