I Write to Write...

three poems and some thoughts

Recently my writing has mostly been in my journal, nothing profound. No shimmering skeletons of poems to flesh out in a stolen moment. I have, however, been really benefitting from the Tuesday morning Write The Good Write group that is part of Joshua Luke Smith’s Huddle. The first poem here comes from a question that was asked during the the “How is everyone” phase of the Zoom call and the second poem comes from a question our host/leader/guy who runs the show (he will dislike all these descriptions probably, sorry DJ I don’t know what to call you). We get some time during the session to write and I always find it amazing what can pop up in a few concentrated minutes, especially after a time of connecting and being inspired. I decided to simply leave them as they are, fresh and unedited from a Tuesday morning.

Where do you want to lengthen your days? (The word Lent comes from the Anglo-Saxon word for Spring, when the days lengthen)

I want to lean
into the time between things, dead time
stretch, let my arms extend
the borders of those minutes

as silence disempowers distraction
as my hands flail phoneless
as my soul sways in the newfound 
   space

to lengthen the stillness
the presence
the being without asking everything else
who I am

to meet kindness in my discomfort
until my day is scattered 
with love shaped 
pockets,
    alive time

---

Write about your recent learnings- what’s emerging?

The thought that
I can do this,
one step softer toward calling
myself a poet
pressure sliding from my shoulders
as I show up
the more my pen meets paper
the more I ingest the process
lip smacking, satisfied
the end result shrinks
in my mind
ideas swelling, joy inflates
I write to write
and that's okay

---

This poem is one published a while back by Part-Time Poets. I really enjoy the poetry they publish, I would recommend checking them out. They are currently open for Submission, if you have “poems that speak to the human experience, individual and shared, through the lens of womanhood and/or motherhood.”

The Richness of It All

Nobody can prepare you
for how the small child phase
catches you by the throat
steals your breath, tightroping
between suffocation and awe
Stuck like a sob, gulping
on overwhelm
and joy
How it wrings 
blood, milk, sweat
from your stretch velvet body
sucks the iron from your blood
stirs up the rage from your belly
How you will somehow
give it more than it asks for
How it asks for more
than you ever thought you could give
How it scrapes out the membranes
of your selfishness
carves the sleep
from behind your eyes
How your strength will surprise you
love cemented deep
into your foundations 
How you will live closer to tears
one finger on the pulse of life
How you will eventually stop looking
for who you once were
Call it refining,
or phoenix arising
Mesmerizing
How your wings will scatter the ashes
of your former self
and you will mourn in fleeting moments
sorrow stark yet overshadowed
by the richness of it all

---

Thank you for reading my poetry! I genuinely appreciate it so much.

Poetry helps me keep it short and not confusing, what follows this is what happens when I am not writing poetry. It may or may not be long and confusing, you will have to read to find out. At the moment I am figuring out how I want to use Substack. I am a bit wary of Substack because I want to be fully present in my life. I don’t want the publication of a post to be at the back of my mind when I have an interesting train of thought or am simply writing in my journal at the end of the day. I don’t need another reason to look at my phone. I want to choose whose accounts I give my time and limited brain space to and have intentional times for doing that. I want to figure out my priorities and let my time, energy and thought life reflect them. Have I mentioned that I can sometimes overthink?

I want to think… not always of myself… and yet I want to figure out this need for affirmation, for approval. I want to explore my soul honestly but not dwell there. Part of what makes great writers is an ability to be extremely self aware but not self focused. Life focused, other focused, yet also deeply connected with themselves. I have dabbled in painting and photography at different phases in my life. What these things have in common with writing is noticing. Noticing. What makes a photograph resonate is not simply good framing or an interesting subject, it is something portrayed in a way that makes the viewer feel like somewhere in their being they know that, have been moved by that. It is framing something that already exists, a feeling contained within the human experience that until that moment seemed inexpressible in this particular way. Someone has noticed, noticed long enough to connect us to the subject through their art. Chests expand in an inhale that is universal, we are moved. I want to do that. And read that. And kind of let my life be that.

I am also figuring out the why’s and the how’s of my writing (you could probably pick that theme up in the first poem and the title of this post). I am feeling vulnerable and hopeful and confused and exuberant, and also very aware of the part of me that wants to do this for the likes. I want to write poetry that helps me work through my life and experiences. Write poetry to remind myself of truth. Write poetry to encourage myself and others. Write poetry to help me notice. Write poetry because I notice. Write poetry because the words are in me. Write poetry for the people around me, write it about them. Write poetry for people to read but also write poetry for no one to read. Mostly though, I want to write, to simply write. So I will do that while I figure all of this out.

Can anyone relate to my inner ramblings?!

Thanks for reading, I genuinely appreciate it so much.

Look at all that Spring!! This time of year is truly a great one to practice noticing.