Poetry

Engaging in some early morning conversations with friends of late has brought me to realize something about myself. Throughout my life through all of the ups and downs I am and have always been writing. I meticulously have logged my adventures and joys and my mishaps and sorrows, previously in journals and now on the Internet as well with my blogs. I write for myself and I write for others, something about penning details of my life that acts as a release for me and also works to inspire others, I am grateful to have this ability.

What I long for however is my poetry.

Something I really enjoy about poetry is that you can get to the core of your self and the core of your Universe pack it all together with very few words in sort of a concentrated novel. There is so much emotion that can be derived from poetry and if you are reading a good poem, however small, you can get a great grasp of not only the authors feelings but their enviorment, class, and their social view of the world. In the past I have received some serious recognition from my poems, my poetry is what eventually gave me the courage to open up and share more of my thoughts and what is internal with the world. Poetry is what got me to where I am today with myself and my writing and I crave my art. It is part of me.

Unfortunately, it seems that whether positive or negative my poetry appears to be dry and forced and extremely unsatisfying to me when I am in a good place in life. The more and more I find true internal happiness, the less and less I write prose and the inspiration to write a quality poem slowly has been fading away. It seems that if I am not totally intoxicated or under the influence of a mind altering substance, or if I am not totally miserable, the words just do not flow in a poetic pattern that is acceptable to me. Consequently I continue to recite the poems of old and I have stopped leaving my footprints on that world. This I want to stop.

My desire again is to let go of that block that in my mind is most likely just my mind and again pour out all that is me onto a napkin somewhere in no where. I hope that I can find the release that I so crave in times of joy and not only in the depths of despair or whatever other miserable existence that I used to create for myself. I cannot let this part of me go....it's naturally, unnatural!

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tilly