When I first started writing micropoetry on Twitter it wasn’t uncommon for a lot of poetic dancing to occur. It was a type of “call and response,” like some of the more traditional churches do with liturgical prayers. The minster calls, the congregation responds. On Twitter though the call and response tended to reside a bit more on the side of the profane as opposed to the sacred.
I remember writing this piece, Unmoved, in a response to another poets prompting. We were poeting about the vulnerability of expressing yourself through poetry. I had this sense, even back then, that the words I put on the page would give me all away. My fears, my fantasies, my anger and worst of all, my deficiencies.
It was two years later, thanks to a girlfriend, I was introduced to Daring Greatly by Brené Brown. She delves into the area of embracing vulnerability, to put oneself wholly into the arena to live instead of holing up on the sidelines where it feels safer; where feelings can’t be hurt, hearts can’t be broken and creativity not be judged.
With pen in hand this was my goal. To embrace the fact I may be exposing myself through my creativity, putting myself out there, and back when I wrote this piece, the sense that I both needed to and that I was a risk rang loudly true.
My Dear Poet helped me to embrace putting myself out there, into the arena, to not only be judged though, but to be loved and enjoyed as well. To paraphrase Brené Brown, if you are numbing yourself from feeling the bad in life, you are simultaneously numbing yourself to the joys. You cannot selectively numb.
And I didn’t want to live life numb. So exploring life through poetry, helped me gain the courage I needed to explore the pain, which silumtaneously, (and thankfully) the ability to feel joy. So yeah, the drops of ink do expose me a bit, but they also free me.
©Entirety 2017If you are looking for Dear Poet: A Book of Uncommon Prayers it can be found here: http://amazon.com/dp/0995199612/