You may have noticed over the last few days that I have been posting a lot of poems from well before I started this blog. That is because I go through periods of flood and drought when it comes to writing. Sometimes I can’t keep myself in paper enough to record all the words that want to come out. On the other hand, I sometimes can sit down and stare at a piece of paper with not a thought in my head. Lately I have been going through a very wordy period. This made me want to go back and re-read writings from other equally wordy periods.
Some of my writings were . . . bad, to put it nicely. Horrible, to be honest. Others were something I felt so proud of that I had to share them. By posting older poetry I was not looking to boost my number of posts, or to draw more readers to my blog. No offense, but I do not write to entertain you. I write to empty my head and heart of whatever feelings are overflowing. Think of my pen and paper as a mental roto-rooter in a clogged up kitchen sink. Sometimes I am angry. Sometimes I am brokenhearted. Sometimes I so full of happiness and sunshine that I am bouncing off the walls. The best way to calm myself down is to write.
If you read any of them please be gentle in your judgement. Some of them are written badly, but that doesn’t change the feeling they try to convey. Like all writers, my ability has improved with time and practice. There is one from 1997 that I am not proud of as far as its cadence and form, but it is one of my favorites because I can remember how heartbroken I was when I wrote it. Though I do hope you enjoy what I have shared from the archives of my heart and soul.
Sharing those poems with you was certainly an interesting trip down memory lane for me. Many of those poems I have not read since I wrote them. Upon re-reading them, though, I was immediately taken back to that moment that I put the pen to paper to empty myself of that feeling. The sadness after losing my grandmother, the heartbreak of being twenty years old and being told that I would not ever be able to have children, the fear of the growing life inside of me when I was pregnant with my son, the love of my hometown baseball team-the St. Louis Cardinals, the peace gained after the death of a friend. All of my emotions are there in their most raw form, on display for you. In those poems my heart is truly on my sleeve.
Until next time . . .
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A TALE OF A T-REX 
Writing in its truest for comes from the heart, looking back a memories past helps up realise how far we have come and how much further we have to go. The harshest judgement is from that of ourselves.
Once we can let go of the fear of judgement and truly love oneself we will be free on the shackles that bind us to such meaningless things like peoples opinion, the only one that really matters is your own.
(In case you were.curious I like everything of.yours.I’ve read so.far)
You are so correct in that people are their own harshest critic. I’ve only just recently gotten comfortable with sharing my writings so publicly and am still overly protective of my “babies.” Your comment really resonated with me, and it will be one that I keep with me as a lesson to never forget. Thank you!
Poetry is an language that helps to unleash our greatest feelings. We must learn to use this language wisely. Keep writing, I love it.
Thank you so much! I appreciate your kind words.
You are welcome!