Monday, April 07, 2014

Identity Politics

Am I one of those
writers
who only comes out
when there's an audience
in need of distraction?

Close down the
Tuesday night poetry club,
turn out the lights,
remove my avatar
of Chunky King David.

Without your reflection,
your approbation,
am I only
fingers tapping
on an anonymous keyboard
in a blip of a blog?

No.

I am the minesweeper
clearing a way
through her moody minefield
of stultifying depression
and angst.

I am the handyman
fixing leaky relationships
dripping human sewage,
patching torn parachutes
and crossing my fingers
that they'll work
if ever needed.

I am the servant,
trying and failing
before a God of
infinite mercy and kindness,
who remains
ever silent,
so that the only
castigating voice is
my own.

I am all these things
and many more,
but I only ever
become a writer
when I stop being
everything else.

11 comments:

  1. That is you. :) And I always love that you share the gritty insides of you.

    Andrea

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  2. I think in part it is the everything else that feeds the words you graciously share.

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  3. I love this, Mosk. You could share it over at Poetic Asides today, too, if you wanted. The prompt is "self portrait." :)

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  4. This poem has had me thinking about what it means to be a blogger sharing creative writing. The first half of the poem made me feel uncomfortable (which is good and started all the ponderings.) The second half seems like it could apply to other online poets that I read. I especially like the line

    I am the handyman
    fixing leaky relationships
    dripping human sewage

    Awesome.

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  5. too cool for school...great attitude

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  6. i think we are all thing in all situations at times...i am a writer in the moment so i never really know when it might hit me....i dont set it apart from other areas of my life....i used to be in abundance...it will wear you out though over time....now i am just whoever is willing...smiles.

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  7. I love this. Your self-portrait is full of meat and blood and love. <3 LOVE it.

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  8. Writing for yourself is the ultimate purge. When you share it with us you find kindred spirits. xo

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  9. Love this... yes, for me at least, it all boils down to the writing... some days it's hard to get there, but it's always worth the effort. smiles. Really nice piece!

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  10. And what a beautiful soul you are. I have a difficult time living and writing, both at the same time, which is, I think, something like you are saying so very eloquently. It takes time of me to process, reflect, create, etc. I'm writing a poem a day this month, and boy do I ever realize how inefficient I am at this!

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  11. Oh, yeah, babe. All those damned roles, it's true. The "moody minefield of stultifying depression" made me squirm. I wonder if that's how Lex sees me sometimes? That's what makes good poetry - looking at yourself and how it connects. And you're so on target about dropping all the other roles before you can write. It's like having to get naked before a long, hot bath! Love you, and sorry I've been scarce. Ameleh

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