Calsilica

I closed you

unfinished book

empty cabinet

i threw you

to the night

to the streets

in the rain

i set you

up

on fire

i left you

an unfinished book

on fire

an empty cabinet

in the rain

i closed you

to the night

i left you

to the streets

 

empty cabinet

on fire

unfinished book

in the rain

i closed you

 

when morning came

i tried to open you

but there were no words

there was nothing

inside except

never

never

 

but i read 

maybe.

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On Blogging in General

The other night, a friend of mine identified my blog posts as confessional.  A few weeks ago, my roommate asked me if I write confessional poetry.  And I’m thinking about the concept of confession.

I think most writers–at least most writers who write–eventually come across the question of why they themselves have chosen to write.  Why writing?  Why writing what you’ve written?  What made you choose this field?  What made you choose these words?

I won’t say writing was my first and only choice.  At first I wanted to be a veterinarian.  

Image

 

That soon passed when I realized as a veterinarian, my job would not be petting dogs and playing fetch and cuddling. (Please see the above picture which represents my young, innocent, beautiful ideas of the world.)

Though I’ve thought about it a lot, I can’t quite say why I write–not exactly, or not clearly.  I could start the list here and not finish until I run out of blog space.  But, I suppose, in the simplest ways, I can describe my most common impulses.  I write fiction because I want to escape.  I write poetry because I feel no escape.  I write non-fiction because I’m repeatedly, relentlessly confronted with reality.  

Following these thoughts, I guess when I started blogging I was turning in on myself–folding in on myself.  I was trying to peer into the corners I’ve never visited, to visit the thoughts I’d abandoned and beg them for forgiveness.  I was trying to connect the pieces of myself, the good and the bad–become cohesive.  And I was so much folding in on myself, that I decided to commit to unfolding myself.  When blogging, I’m swimming away from the shores of my thoughts, past the waves of my doubts and most personal hopes, and happily finding the ocean of the world.