Poetry
This week: Anxiety: Poet's Curse? Edited by: Quizmo LaGrande More Newsletters By This Editor
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"If I rest, if I think inward, I go mad" ~ Sylvia Plath
"Canst thou minister to a mind diseased? Canst thou speak peace and rest to a soul tost on a sea of troubles without one friendly star to guide her course, and dreading that the next surge may overwhelm her?" ~ Robert Burns
"To be a poet is a condition rather than a profession." ~ Robert Graves |
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I like to keep my newsletters on the bright side, poking fun at what is... and what is not. Heck, the world is MUCH too serious. Life is meant to be joyful. As far as I'm concerned, we are here to learn, and experience. No, it's not always good, but if you look hard enough, there is a silver-lining. We are here to raise our soul's vibration, share our gifts, and ultimately, give those gifts for the greater good of others. Poetry being a prime example.
Contrary to society and media mandates, church and government rules and regulations, our parents' good intentions (or, not so good), our genetic make-up, the environment, etc., life is supposed to be a good thing; yet, far too many people allow themselves to be labeled, judged and placed in little boxes often without windows. For them the business of living day-to-day can be a scary undertaking.
Awareness and treatment of mental maladies is rapidly on the rise and, thankfully, being taken seriously, not brushed under the table or stuffed in the "closet" as it was not too very long ago.
For this edition, I humbly remove my rose-colored glasses and briefly look at the darker side of existing, primarily because my adult daughter was recently hospitalized due to a severe anxiety attack.
Now, anxiety, unlike my faithful side-kick, depression, is not something I am privy to poke fun at, for I am only a witness, not a host. One cannot know what is going on in an anxiety-ridden head. What seems silly and frivolous to me, is a real terror to her. I've learned the hard way, "Oh, you'll get over it," or "Don't be silly," just doesn't help. The best thing to do is just be there for them and remind them they are loved. There is no real formula.
As I'm sure you're well aware, poets are not excluded from mental disorders. Emily Dickinson, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Sylvia Plath, and Edgar Allan Poe, are just a few famous sufferers. In fact, I am of the belief that poets are exceptionally prone to bouts of darkness, depression, and disillusion, for the poet sees, feels, senses so much more than most individuals, we are often misunderstood. Words are our release, thus our gift. Our gift to share. Often our therapy.
With that I'll share a writing exercise given to my daughter in one of her groups and invite you to participate in the class.
I AM
by Suzi Mee
I am (two special characteristics you have).
I wonder (something you are actually curious about).
I hear (an imaginary sound).
I see (an imaginary sight).
I want (an actual desire).
I am (the first line of the poem repeated).
I pretend (something you actually pretend to do).
I feel (a feeling about something imaginary).
I touch (an imaginary touch).
I worry (something that really bothers you).
I cry (something that makes you very sad).
I am (the first line of the poem repeated).
I understand (something you now is true).
I say (something you believe in).
I dream (something you actually dream about).
I try (something you really make an effort about).
I hope (something you actually hope for).
I am (the first line of the poem repeated).
My challenge to you--fill in the blanks. Write your poem! Whether you're anxiety ridden, depressed, bi-polar, or, god forbid, sane, let it all hang out. (For those of you who feel you are non poets, here's your big chance!
I'll go first... (this is the first and only draft)
I AM
By Quizmo LaGrande
I am a loner and a searcher.
I wonder what the rest of the world looks like.
I hear the mountains sigh and the oceans applause.
I see birds circle lazily over green valleys below me.
I want to smell the richness of the earth, taste the salt of the sea, breathe the love of the purest air.
I am a loner and a searcher.
I pretend I am sitting high in the branches of a tree.
I feel no one sees, no one listens.
I touch the rough bark and long for a hug.
I worry that someone may find me.
I cry to think they won't.
I am a loner and a searcher.
I understand love is the only way.
I say we are all one.
I dream someday everyone, the whole world, will understand.
I try to talk, but have not the voice to speak.
I hope soon people will hear.
I am a loner and searcher.
Yours, of course, will look entirely different. There are no right or wrong answers, and your response will never be graded or judged--just be yourself and answer honestly--whatever first comes to mind. Perhaps you'd like to do this exercise once a year to monitor how you've grown and changed. If anything, just have fun!
If you care to share your creation, send it along and I'll feature it next month's "Ask and Answer" section. If you'd rather not have it published, I'd still like to see it.
Oh, I'm so excited to see what you all come up with!
Keep on the sunny side, people. It's never as bad as it seems, only as bad as you allow it to be.
Much love to you all!!
By the way, daughter is home and doing fine. |
Bless all these wonderfully brave and good spirits...
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Regarding the "Dances With Dogs" issue...
G. B. Williams kindly remarked:
Thank you for the shout out! I also loved the poems in this newsletter about dogs. At one time in my life (I lived on a farm), I had three wonderful dogs, and each of your poems reminded me of their love. Thank you.
If only people could love as unconditionally. *Sigh.*
Dorianne
There are so many wonderful things we can say about dogs as well as our pets. As one poem points out, they have thoughts about us too. Thank you for sharing. I just hope that my little friends who are gone, are in a wonderful place where they are having a great time.
I sure hope they are all there to meet us when it's our time to go. In my case, I just can't imagine the stampede!
Love and peace! |
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