an open conversation

feel free to join in

i came to the cafe

because i wanted to be a poet

 

to be more honest

and stand taller

 

it never occurred to me

that making myself vulnerable

to strangers

is missing the entire point

 

someone called me a coward

on april fool's day

and now i learn

that courage is different

than bravery

 

i guess he was right

courage is about heart

and i have never

let mine show

so that it mattered

 

i have missed my voice

it ran away

when john did

 

i think it is time

to get out in the woods

and take a long walk

 

my soul needs beauty

my chest is heavy

aching for light

the way the sun falls

through the leaves

above my head

 

i still have a lot of questions

 

i have a long road

getting to vulnerable

 

i will get there

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Marie Anzalone]

I have been repairing myself through th ework of "greats." Even here, I try to surround myself with those who are far more insightful, more skilled with the pen, more compassionately honest, and more empathic than I; so that I learn. I thinknthat we empathic people are the mirrors reflecting the wellness (or lack thereof) of our communities; and this community is a reflection of the values of our collective.

One of the greats I am studying right now is Brene Brown, and her work in recovery from shame and the power of vulnerability. In one of her talks, she says, "You gotta dance with the one who brung ya'." If you are here to grow taller, you are talking about empowerment. Empowerment comes from true vulnerability, from admitting our needs, embracing our strengths, and not despairing when our critics attack. There are some excellent role models on site for insight into vulnerability of the human heart and soul: Phibby. dana. LJW. CHL. Empowerment also comes from not apologizing for who you are: look into Diego. Perdition. Vesa. Alessander. our own beloved John. others. There are other role models for courage, compasison, etc. We each have soemthign to bring to the table.

We all need that beauty of which you speak. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross said that all fear, when traced back to its source, is ultimately the fear of death. Soemone else said that all true poetry is a love poem. Even propagandist poetry is espousing a tainted form of love, love of existing powerr and control structures. Though I would argue that propaganda is not "real" poetry, any more than "praise God without knowing why" is poetry. We read and write, ultimately, because our souls long for connection with a greater love, a greater understanding. To be open to that... that is real empowering vulnerability.

"An old rabbi is walking with his young apprentice. The boy asks, 'Rabbi, when we pray, why do we pray that God place His holy words upon our hearts? Why do we not ask that He place the words inside our hearts. Isn't that where they belong?' and the rabbi responds, "But you see, my son, in our daily normal state of busyness and life, our hearts are, for the most part closed. Something needs to happen for them to be broken open in order for the words to fall inside.'"

My friend, John's loss broke both of our hearts. Without knowing what we were doing, we both closed down, in many ways. To be honest, my own breakdown started last year with the personal attacks. We need to walk through despair, learn to live with guilt, learn to manange regret, and come through vulnerable and compassionate, in order to maintain our humanity. This is what the greats have to teach us. We, in our arrogance, look at their example, and say, "I see you, and I appreciate your message... but why can't you be more like ME? Why can't you conform more to what I think you SHOULD look like?"

As for soemone calling you a coward... methinks it was the mirror talking there. There is nothign more couragous than looking out at the great universe and humbly saying, "I have a lot to learn."

[Emily B]

i saw one of the videos this morning and then my phone stopped cooperating. It occurred to me that too much of Ms. Brown on top of all the other late stimulus might hav been too much to take. I need the woods. They need me. I have to sort out all the questions. I am where I was supposed to be. If I had left I would not have been here when Garrett had his accident. That would have been more deeply tragic. I need art. It needs me, too, I think. I am shirking so many other responsibilities today. But I think I need time to be me. For a little while.

I have a document started with poems from writers here who either wrote about me or were inspired by me. I want my kids to see me someday the way others did. With self publishing the way it is now, we could all publish any anthology of works we wanted to. Have a whole bookshelf full of our favorite works. I need to work on getting John's poems in a volume.

[Marie Anzalone]

The woods will never do you wrong. I need to get back there myself. I live in a place where I have to at times viciously guard my right to space and alone time. There is no such thing as quiet. If i try to sit in a park or on a bus and read, I have people shoving things in my face to buy, or begging me for money, or getting belligerent when I say, no, I have nothing. The constant noise and stimulus gets to me, too. I find that I have to be selective about what stimulus I choose to let in. And what stimulus I choose to permit to affect me. Hard lessons, hard lesssons.

[Jason Henry]

the woods can be very restorative. hope you find your solution, wherever it may be.

[jade162]

Wow. Very good, great thinking. Keep writing!

[Ashfallen]

Wow! This is an amazing moment of inward reflection and realization, caught beautifully in words. The meaning here is all, the words simply paint the picture in simple, easy to read words. I appreciate this, and your journey, and hope you truly do get there.

[Emily B]

Thank you!

[Anne Timmins]

What a profound and thoughtful piece. Great job with the imagery here.

[Carissa Faulk]

Oh, I feel this poem so deeply. The eternal struggle of the writer; our success can only be achieved by dragging our deepest hurts and fears out into the spotlight for the world, and, what is even harder, to our friends and family. I don't mind anonymous strangers on the internet reading my poetry, but my parents? My brother? That's the hard part!

Beautiful language in this poem. I especially enjoy the 8th stanza, "my chest is heavy / aching for light / the way the sun falls / through the leaves / above my head". Stunning!

[SkySeasoning]

This is so pretty. I like the wonder of it and how it is about growth and a journey.

[Emily B]

This seems Like forever ago

[TL Boehm]

I remember when you came to the Cafe. I truly love you and your words. As for "Vulnerable" not sure that is a worthy destination - when you have already arrived at "real" at "eloquent" at "honest" and all of it without ego. At least this is how I see you.

[stars are far]

we all need to free our hearts and souls, give ourself a break because we need it from time to time, and i dont think that anyone have the right to judge because we are made to be imperfect, we are beatiful with our curves and edges, we are amazing by the freedom our minds and souls tend to be.
that was a very great thought to share, and when we write we show our weakness, we show our points, just to be us.. i dont think that you have to get sad when someone says you are a coward, because that means they are watching you, therfor they are behind you.. so cheer up an dlive before its too late :)
that was very great work :)