Saturday, March 19, 2011

"Know Thyself"

This next poem was written 9 days before the most recent piece I posted (see: Abortion Debate & Depression Stigma).
If you're a writer of any kind I encourage you to go back and reread your material. Since hitting puberty, all I can remember is a roller-coaster of mental and emotional instability, and I didn't have the tools to express what I went through on a monthly basis. I was confused, angry, self-loathing, fearful, ashamed, and for a few reasons, I didn't think that was abnormal, even when these maladies affected my performance in school, my friendships, and so on. These destructive emotional patterns and ways of viewing myself recycled themselves throughout high-school and into college, with occasionally severe effects.
It was by journaling (at the encouragement of a few teachers) nearly daily that I was able to express myself (and eventually start writing poetry, such as I am posting now) and start to understand my own mental process. If nothing else, it helped let off the pressure; release the steam and enable me to cool off. This past summer I read about two years worth of my own writing, and was able to identify a lot of cyclical behavior, in an a relatively objective way that facilitated my personal growth. Now, if I could afford a good therapist, you bet I'd be on the couch faster than if you'd told me you'd procured an advance copy of Trueblood Season 4 and, do I want to come over?, but because my waitress/bartender/artist thing, shockingly, isn't paying for said therapy, writing shall have to suffice for now.
I by no means think that we should all run around diagnosing ourselves (Damn you WebMD! The nightmares you've caused! *shakes fist angrily at the heavens*), but we should not always have to leave it to a professional to ask why we make certain decisions, or why we feel a certain way. A degree of self knowledge can be attained through carefully and attentively looking inwards at ourselves, by daring to dig that giant rock out out of the mud and take a peek under it. Sure, there will be a few worms and beetles hanging out, but they're so little in the big picture. Once you heave that rock up, you can expose the earth to sunlight again, so new things can be nurtured into existence. It's only by diving into that dark, rich earth that we can plant a sense of understanding and peace with ourselves.

Tablet of Unutterable Thoughts


what do I see in my dreams?
how to begin and how to end
the answer to the unanswerable question
how do i explain what i dare not say aloud
for fear of frightening away the light
I fear the abyss of warped faces
and bloody traces of my identity
(if i even have one)
what do i dream that keeps me drugged in uncertainty
smothered in inability
to express or connect or color the wasteland of my subconscious
can you guess what horrors I give birth to?
what absurdities I breath life to?
what reprehensible, incomprehensible
inconsequential evils I rest with?
I sleep alone and am not isolated
my demons keep berth with me



  1. Love it. So true. At the end of the day, I've been learning that regardless of my emotions, choices, mindsets, et al, Mama Earth and Daddy Sun will still be there keeping everything alive and will always be there for me, regardless of what all happens. That I know for sure.

    This song helps me transmute all experiences into productive, useful, soil. Enjoy. :)

  2. It's interestg what you say: "writing shall have to suffice for now." I have never discarded the clarity that psycho analysis cam bring, however, I believe that you are your greatest teacher and so have it within yourself to find yourself and lead yourself through and emerge from the strom victorious. All psychologists do is lead you to a place of emotional strength where that is possible. Judging by your writing-and the change in your tone, I'd say you've made ectacular progress. Well done, you.

  3. Thanks my love, much appreciated.