Are Poetica
The last time I felt at ease anywhere under the sun,
I couldn’t tell you. But I do remember how it shines–
its warmth on my face. When I was young, too bright
for my own good, I believed in the sooth of others, on
depending on it. I guess I still almost do. I’ve my old
wounds. Years later, after several someones scrawled
their sun on my heart, I found this a separate kind
of theft, like summer dissolving into a moody winter
for the lack of fall. It’s no wonder our circles narrow, on
their sun on my heart, I found this a separate kind
of theft, like summer dissolving into a moody winter
for the lack of fall. It’s no wonder our circles narrow, on
and on. But it doesn’t have to be an unrelenting spiral.
I write wound and share this queer and distant grieving
so that someone may read it, and for a second, find
in themselves some kind of familar space, our shared
distant and half-remembered home.
I write wound and share this queer and distant grieving
so that someone may read it, and for a second, find
in themselves some kind of familar space, our shared
distant and half-remembered home.
14 thoughts on "Are Poetica"
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The nostalgic summer that we can never really place our finger on coupled with the dying hopefulness that comes with the overly eager, seeing summer as bursting full of potential. Then being in the middle and seeing it as another form of winter. I like this a lot. Good job!
Thanks, Patrick. I’ve been thinking about art-making a lot lately and the intention behind the poems I’ve been writing, and exploring that in poems too somehow explains it to me a little bit more
I like how this poem spirals into an acceptance of loss with a small twist of hope. I’m glad you didn’t go down the totally bleak and hopeless rabbit hole. The fact you write poems like this affirms that you truly have the soul of a poet.
Linda, thanks for your kind and generous response. I think sometimes the search for meaning can be and feel fruitless, but in those moments (like yesterday) I need a reminder as to the why behind the building of these things I try and do.
What speaks to me the most here is the narrowing circles, the spiraling in of connection with others, which, of course, your poem subverts! Thank you, Shaun
Thanks, Dr. Bedetti! I appreciate that you noticed how the intense spiraling-in can also lead to an expanding-out, which is what we do here in June–I didn’t quite get that when I was writing
Beautiful, Shaun.
Thanks so much, Kevin
your a master of the layered
intention, I love your poems
Thank you so much, Jim, for saying that. I respect your work, too, and really do appreciate your kind words.
Such beautiful, layered introspection. I love these lines about intention:
I write wound and share this queer and distant grieving
so that someone may read it, and for a second, find
in themselves some kind of familar space,
Thanks so much, Ellen
I love the sentiments explored here! I particularly liked the line “I found this a separate kind/of theft,” but the last ones were very sweet. Just lovely.
Thank you, Maira!