the Trigger-happy housewife

Bringing the constantly fantastic and painfully insane together daily!

To write poetry is to bleed words.

on August 14, 2013

You have to hurt to bleed. That’s what I thought, I am not sure what I think.

I know that my mind works in pictures. The painting of a woman starts as small glimpses of her hands or neck with the sound of her singing, laughing or crying. Since I was a child I could sit with these thought-movies and if I followed them they would tell stories, the painting or drawing was complete when the movie ended. Sometimes, often, there would be this incredibly detailed person with no background. People always asked why, and pushed me to finish the piece. Only it was complete. I didn’t see the background. Just that moment. I know now that I can create from that place, and that is my favorite mindset, but I can also just create. I can take paints out and make myself start and the love of art and creating will kick in.

Writing is a bit different, or maybe not so much. To write a few words and unleash a thousand emotions, that is what I love. The things that usually get me in that zone are love and loss. Again, as you can see, I know that I can make myself write about anything. I do here on this blog. I write out my life for myself and my children and anyone who wants to stop by. I can just start and the enjoyment of it takes over, but those truly eloquent packages of prose come when I am caught in an emotion so strong I simply MUST write. Again, with my writing I stuck more to short stories. I like the compact, the overly saturated nature. Does it really matter what came before or what will follow? If I can put you in that moment and you can feel all of it as of it were real, does the rest matter? To many people yes, and maybe that’s why I fell in love with poetry.

Poetry is for those moments that deserve to be immortal, because of their extraordinary beauty, pain, love or perfection. With poetry people don’t ask for a background, they feel free to assume – and therefore the poem is more than it could ever be because it is a piece of anyone who reads it. People don’t need an end, they end it themselves. I love that. Honestly, though, my poetry has been choked up lately. The reason I can really go to is that I am happy. Poetry is easy when I am angry, sad, or hurt. I have done that so long I know the beautiful words for those things, I know how to convey them and I know their shape. Happy, however is new. As I try on new words I feel like a child going back to the beginning, there are no fancy word or delicate skills. It’s all elementary rhymes. Look, rhyming is lovely but for so long my poetry has evolved away from it that to start from that place feels immature. Also, when I am happy I tend to sing everything. I sing songs I know and I make up songs. I mean all the time I sing-song my life. I am usually singing my prayers as well, just humming and singing what my heart feels all day. My children can occasionally become annoyed with it, but have learned to deal. When you are writing poetry and you sing it it becomes a song and while I love that it also creates a distance to it. Makes it a new art form and that makes me insecure… (Then of course a thought that should have been obvious hit me and that is that just because I hear music as I write doesn’t mean that the reader will hear it and therefore what is a “song” in my head becomes poetry again. I know, I’ll take my bow now!)

I am working through it, however. Just like realizing that sometime you have to just MAKE ART or WRITE ABOUT ANYTHING, I had decided to put words on paper. With that decision followed by a conversation with my pastor who basically said, “You are a poet.” To which I though, “Thank God.” because, let’s be honest, trying to be me and nourish the talent He gave me, yet start all over as far as content has caused a little bit of a doubt to grow. So I have been in the open zone, waiting for a flow. That’s how poetry is for me, suddenly an emotion wells up with a word and then if I go with it the word just naturally connects to the next and eventually there is a pile of words I just sort of shift around until they create something.

Naturally this new found commitment to going with it would be tested on a drive to and then from Baton Rouge. The main idea so clear I couldn’t shake it if I wanted to. So I made the decision to PULL OVER and type out the first few words thinking that would alleviate the distraction in my head. It only made it worse and so I spent the ride home from Baton Rouge sing-songing a poem-song into my voice memos – there you go. She’s back. 😉

P.S. This post won’t let me preview itself so I guess we are just going to upload it it it’s rough-cut glory! lol

Advertisements

One response to “To write poetry is to bleed words.

  1. johncoyote says:

    I agree. Good writers bleed their heart and soul to the paper and pen. I enjoyed your thoughts on writing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: