Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Poetry Purge


I’ve mentioned before that I write as a form of self-therapy.  I didn’t mention that I don’t just write in paragraphs like I typically do for this blog, though that is primarily how I write these days.  I find any kind of writing to be therapeutic, cleansing, and helpful to my inner being.  

If I’m having a particularly hard time processing something or if I’m too emotional about it to really write, I write poetry.

I’ve kept a poetry journal since I was 15.  Several, actually.

Since the weather is dismal and I’m in sort of a funny mood, I thought I might share a few of the poems I’ve written in the last few years.  From the time period in which I was going through the breakup I keep referencing every so often, to be more specific.

Please bear in mind how deeply personal poetry is to me, since it comes from a place of overwhelming and raw emotion.  It actually takes a lot for me to share these and I really can’t tell you why I decided to do so today.  Maybe I’m setting you up to tell you my story sooner than I thought I would be ready to.

Who knows.

Also, it’s better if I tell you now that I don’t like rhyming in poetry unless it’s completely necessary or if the “poem” is actually a “song”.  I prefer free-verse, so the poems read more like a story than a verse-y poem and the punctuation is rather stylistic.  So do not go into this expecting my poems to rhyme, have stanzas with the same amount of lines every time, or lines with the same amount of syllables each time.  They will not.  If you prefer that kind of poetry, don’t even bother to read mine because you won’t enjoy it one bit.  

The first one is my favorite of the three by far.

Here goes.  

----

i watched the moon rise tonight
its silver tongues
licking through the branches
of the ash tree in my backyard
as the man looked down at me
benignly
like a father to his child

i watched that face blur
out of focus
as the wind rippled through the water
of the pond to the shore
that benign smile
warped slowly

i turn my face
toward heaven and the silver orb
i see the stoic, undisturbed face
of the man still watching me
and the black expanse beyond
is what really haunts me

it is that painfully empty noir
that reminds me
of your eyes
and how black they became
eight months ago
in the steamy night

when your first was raised
and i was pinioned
in that small room
where no one heard my cries
as the moon rose
throwing silver tongues
through the still-blooming trees
and the small window of my prison.

----

somehow
my heart still beats
for you
i still tremble
cold and alone
at the whisper
the scent
of your name
your breath
my blood runs cold

every day i find
small reminders
of a pain
you caused me
each bruise
i remember
a shadow in my mind
hair in your hands
my hair
in my hands

how do i forgive
when i cannot
forget?
how does my heart
still beat
when all you
have done
is rip it out
time
and time again?

i still remember
curtains pulled
and darkness
that spills on my face
remember
my hands, your hands
our bodies
separately entwined
for the last time

i love you
echoes
in my empty
and hollow chest

Let me go.

----

and my pillow
shall dampen my
face
in my
sleep
eyes
shall close
and remain
in blissful solitude
eternity
shall be nothing
in the wake of
your eyes.

3 comments:

  1. Holy crap, Katie. That's incredible.

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  2. These are incredibly expressive and I understand how exposing it can be to let other people read your work, especially pieces you've obviously put so much into.

    I'm really glad you have an expressive outlet and look forward to reading more someday!

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  3. Thank you. :)

    I rarely let other people read my poetry because it is so much a part of me. I'm glad you both liked it.

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