Poetry: Not for the Faint of Heart

When I think about finishing a new book, I envision another book of stories or a novel. I don’t see a book of poetry.

Mused1I don’t think I could write enough poems to fill up a book. Or least, if I wrote that many, I’m not sure I’d survive the process.

The few poems that I have written feel too close to the bone. Not enough fiction in between me and what I’m writing.

With my stories, they usually – but not always – begin with a nugget from my life.

An incident. A feeling. A broken heart.

But by the time I’ve finished the story, it’s no longer really connected to me. The plot, characters, location, outcome…everything has probably changed. Except for that original nugget.

With stories, I can step away from myself and let the stories float out there on their own.

But the poems – they stick to me. As painful as it is to write them, it’s even more painful to see them in the world, knowing that’s me on the page for all to see. No fiction to hide behind.

I’m thrilled, and scared, to have my most recent poem, Love Court, included in the Spring Equinox 2015 issue of Mused Literary Review.

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