Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Thursday, October 03, 2013

Oct 3: I wrote a poem one day . . .

I wrote a poem one day, jangled verse, angry verse, as if I could not survive without putting words down to separate who I was, who I might become from what seemed inevitable.

That first poem changed my life. My sister was pregnant at sixteen. My mother worked at a bar. My stepfather had turned violent.

My aunt came to visit that summer I was seventeen, she who painted pictures, great sweeping abstracts. I knew nothing of these, but she read my poem. A week later, she invited me to California, to go to a community college. I left and never looked back.

This poem began all my writing. Now I remember only the last stanza. Here it is.

There's no such thing as a future,
whether good or bad.
There's only the past taunting you
with things you've never had.

Hundreds of poems later, I see now that first poem was pretty terrible. As was my life then. Today I write fiction, an occasional poem, and quilt. My husband and my daughter (now son-in-law and granddaughter) enrich every day.

Poetry has always been my private side, difficult to read aloud, even more difficult to share. But there's still something in a graceful line of words, observation, reflection, a stillness or awareness that connects me back to joy.

I wrote a poem one day
so many years ago:
a great door opening
to a community of voices,
a mermaid singing on the edge of the sea,
a lover's voice reciting,
a baby's cry, fretful, then quiet;
a painter's brush rich with blue paint,
a kaleidoscope of words,
each one irrevocably bringing change.

Read what others have written for OctPoWriMo here.

9 comments:

  1. You are blessed that you had an aunt that cared so much to help you out and into your destiny. So glad she was there for you. Sweet poem.

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  2. strange how first poem remains our favorite on certain ways...

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  3. Anonymous2:41 PM

    Wonderful.

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  4. Thank you for these careful insights!

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  5. The poem is lovely; that last line about irrevocable change is wonderful. But I really loved the opening line of your blog...the jangled verse, angry verse. In fact, that first paragraph is poetry. Loved it!

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  6. You have a gift of expressing yourself through writing and the poem was wonderful and a vehicle for change to happen in your life. Nice blog post, Beth

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  7. Thank you all for reading and responding. These poems are not so easy to write each day, but I appreciate very much this community of voices. Write on!

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  8. Anonymous1:33 PM

    So glad you are sharing this very private part of yourself with your fellow poets. May you enjoy many wonderful joyful tomorrows.

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  9. This reminds me of my journey at the age of sixteen, when i started writing a day after my dad passed away.Since then words have been my sole companions when the heart aches.Thank you Beth.

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