PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You are not a fool, not in any sense of the word and not in any stretch of the imagination.  As for what you are feeling or experiencing, spiritually, right now, that may actually be part of your approach to Divinity.  I will share just a little here, and, be assured, I am not trying to proselytize, just letting you know, from my own experience, that others are going, or have gone, through the same thing.  The great science fiction writer, Cordwainer Smith wrote, in one of his prefaces, "I am not a fussy sectarian, but I get a lot of happiness from the teachings of Jesus."  He went from a nominal faith in the middle of his life to a faith of great grandeur (what we would call High Church) at the end of his life; but it was not an easy path for him.  I myself became a Christian in January, 1994 (hence, my screen name); I came to belief at that time, but then I struggled.  But I found the grandeur of Faith only recently, in the Orthodox Church (which, in my mind, is the highest of the High Church; I say that humbly and not boastfully).  One of the things I really admire about Orthodox theology is its view of life as a progressing through and into Faith, not just a progress away from the saved point (which is what the church I attended in 1994 taught); it is a looking ahead, not a constant and wistful looking back.  I believe that the human aspiration toward Faith, however you care to define that, is always a going toward.  Or, to put it more crudely in the words of my former auto mechanic, a car only goes forward one way.  And there may be bumps, flat tires, fill-ups, even fender benders along that way, but it is still going forward only one way.

  I am becoming verbose here, but let me add one further point.  They tell me that smart inventors know how to harness failure as a teaching or learning opportunity; so that every failure can be seen not as a miserable mistake, but as a contributor to ultimate success.  I think your poem is listing some of the feelings of some of those pre-success incidents (I will not call them failures or failings).  Then when the poem swerves into the staring at the stars and the wondering at who (or Who) might be watching, faith is starting to take hold. 

    Your statement of "Poetry as my religion" reminded me of something that the Holy Apostle Saint Paul wrote in his Ephesian letter.  The statement is often poorly translated into English, but he actually states that we are God's poetry.  Since I believe everything Paul said, then I can also say to you that if your religion is poetry then you are making a good first step, because the Maker's creation is also called Poetry.  I think that you will find your phrase that I just quoted as progress in your soul from "poetry as my religion" to "the poetry of my religion" and then the religion itself will blossom into the grandeur of your faith.  Been there, done that, not accomplished at it yet; so I speak as one who is journeying similtaneously with you.  Our pathways may take different directions as there are, after all, many interstate highways on which to travel.  But the ultimate arrival is to the place of spiritual vitality and comfort.  For me, it is the Orthodox Faith; but I can only speak for me.  And though I cannot speak for you, which is neither my right nor my intention, I can certainly speak to you.  And whatever you may be going through, do not grapple with it like an obstacle, but embrace it as one of those pre-success incidents.  There may be many or few; and God knows I have wasted a multitude, yet here I am, an old man, no longer fearful of death, no longer fearful that I blundered for years, because all of those blunders of my own were really the pre-success incidents that I needed to experience.

    The languahe of your poem is very poignant and very striking, and yet has a very comfortable conversational tone to it---like two friends speaking over a fairly bounteous salad for lunch.  You should be very proud of this poem, and I think it wil bear witess to others who may also be struggling.

Poetry is easy. You simply slice open your wrist, and let your emotions bleed out onto the paper. You have a unique way of expressing yourself. There is a whole lot of descriptive articulation, venting, and a bordering of creativity that gets splashed with kaleidoscopes of color that hide the pinnacles of your pain. However, it is mostly still there to the attentive reader. As a mountain continues to stand no matter how bad the weather and regardless of the amount of rain. You squeeze out you’re suffering in ways that almost make the reader cry. I just hope as you extract all your sentiments and melodies of developing passions, that you find time to burn the unpleasantries and suffering. Otherwise, a poetess as yourself, with so many raw sentiments running inside her could easily explode. Continue to mature, but never allow yourself to fall from grace, or to miss embracing even one – beautiful, shining star.

This is a beautiful poem about a difficult problem, which I went through, myself, for years in the late eighties and very early nineties.  You document all the aspects of the problems very poetically.

However, one set of lines---Still I stare at the stars / And wonder who’s watching---is one of the most brilliant statement I have every read in a poem, and I have been reading poetry for forty-five years as of this April.  Both phonetically, with assonance, and the essential mystery described by the words . . . such a depth in these words far beyond even the profound deepness of the rest of the poem.  I found this by random browsing, and believe me, those two lines have made my morning.