April is National Poetry Month. This year I am posting raw, un-edited pieces throughout the month. Here are today’s pieces.
There is a closet in the mind,
and when it gets too full of those all too human experiences
of joy, grief, desire, and frustration,
it all comes tumbling down as you open the door.
We train ourselves to trick our minds
into believing what we must to survive.
We survive better and faster
if we can take those problems out, and put them in a box
then put the boxes back on the shelf…
so when the boxes fall,
we know where to put whatever falls out,
and we can go on pretending that the human experience
can be contained.
The artist lives in a relative state of dissatisfaction
because they see the world as it could be,
and reality is too dreary or messy by comparison.
But the artist can create their own reality,
if at least for a brief moment,
to satisfy their hunger
for beauty and transformation…
in the moments of insight
before new questions and experiences begin to form.
This is the fodder on which an artist must chew,
to sustain that pendulum swing
between survival and fulfillment.