A Poetic Man

If you’re visiting through Instagram, then I think you surely know, that my writing tends to poetry, and does my feelings show. Please excuse the horribly cheesy line to kick things off. But I’m sure you get the point! The themes I’ve written about so far have had a bit of a mix of my experience and my thoughts of how you can go about them. This time around I’m just trying to take some of my own advice (from my very first post), put some of my work out there and be vulnerable.

When I was in my late ‘teens I felt an urge to write songs and poetry. I have absolutely no musical ability whatsoever and a singing voice to empty the room, so the reality is, it was poetry! My poems were raw and pimply and not a little bit obsessive. Then I didn’t write poetry for many years… in fact I wrote none at all until the middle of last year, when I wrote a few lines of verse to describe how I felt with my partner on Tuesday nights – we are both single parents and we had to take time to see each other when we could. As life became more complicated later in the year I wrote more and it became a wonderful creative outlet for me.

I’m fairly critical of my own writing. Not of the feelings that it expresses, but of the way that I write. I seem to only be able to write with rhyme, which is very frustrating when I see all the beautiful poetry out there these days. But this is about being vulnerable, and allowing my true self to be seen. Not placing my own harsh judgements around the things I do, but showing my soul to the world. Not to be judged, but simply to be seen for who I am.

This first poem is untitled, but I wrote it over coffee one morning. For some reason I was feeling the sea. Like most of my poetry, it was written in the space of about fifteen minutes!

My heart untethered from its mooring

Awash in a dark, stormy sea

Swells of love, waves of fear

And I wait till you come and rescue me

Seas so high, I can’t see the horizon

Ride the highs and the lows of the waves

Hoping you will be there at the next crest

The safety of your boat I crave

The harbour no longer in sight

I don’t wish to return to the shore

I stay afloat and wish you to remember

It is you whom I’ll love evermore.

While it’s true that my poems seem to have a singular theme, the subject isn’t always the same. I wrote ‘My Favourite Place’ about a recent solo day hike that I took. I set out with lots on my mind and returned with a calm mind and a full heart.

My Favourite Place

Laces tight on my heavy boots,

Greasy sunscreen covers my face.

Lunch in my pack, ready to go;

Yearning to explore this place.

Setting off it is hard, and steep,

the stones slip under my shoes,

but step after step I climb,

the reward at the end is the view.

The path is awash with hikers

struggling up the lofty hill.

I walk past, say ‘good morning’

and receive some muttered goodwill.

I crest the peak on my own,

apple crunching between my teeth.

I pause to gaze at the wondrous sight

of the beautiful canyon beneath.

Rugged cliffs on the far side stare

at me as I start my descent.

The gum trees part for a moment:

reveal the valley, its full extent.

I wind my way down to the river,

skidding and sliding on stones.

The trickling water is calming

and I notice that I’m all alone.

Not a single voice is heard.

No other footstep betrays itself.

The peace on the river envelops

as I approach the scrambling shelf.

Pull myself round the bend,

cable supports my every step.

I’m almost there, nearly done,

I take lunch to regain some pep.

One final hill and I’m home,

back to the car once again.

But this slope is the tough one,

with determination I begin.

I make my way up to the top,

sweat soaking through my shirt.

Back to the car and my home.

as my feet show the first signs of hurt.

The bush is my happiest place:

surrounded by water and trees,

and mountains and birds and roos.

Of all, my favourite place to be.

 

I have so many poems from the last few months – perhaps twenty – but I won’t torture much further. I’ll just give you one more that I wrote recently. On Valentine’s Day in fact. Yet again over my morning coffee. Yes, it’s meant to be soppy. Yes, it’s absolutely vulnerable. And yes, it’s unreservedly honest!

Roses are red,

And violets so blue.

This poem’s to say

How much I love you.

I choose you each day

Without any regret,

As I will tomorrow. 

On this you can bet.

I give you my heart

And my body and soul.

My love they’re for you

And yours ‘til we’re old.

I’m keeping this simple

Because this love isn’t hard.

Except for the times

When we are apart.

Your heart is an island,

And my love the sea

Just washing at your shore

‘Til you slip into me.

I know that I’d smile,

It would be oh so fine.

If, baby, you’d just say:

I’m your Valentine.

Well, I hope you enjoyed the trip down poetry lane with me. I have shown these only to one person before, so it’s a big leap for me to put them on here. Please be kind. 🙂 I don’t write for others, but rather for me. It’s what the process of writing does to my thinking that makes it so therapeutic. Writing organises my thoughts in ways that are creative and overstated. Knowing this helps me to let things go and reduce the narrative. And for me, that’s a huge step towards my goals for happiness and balance.