“I’ve Found a Place For Empathy”
I’ve found a place for empathy.
It lies between a cracking vase
and shattered palms.
It rests inside a butcher’s brow–
At once stern and hard,
and yet remembers,
that each piece he cuts had
a history once.
That in each whack he
must look back and see it as it was.
We are at once a troubled lot,
whose faces scrunch in shame,
and yet, by turn, we see in sighs–
the weight that’s held within our eyes.
Maybe empathy is the same–
And lies between our window panes.
Writing poetry is hard, especially since I am not editing these but writing them, and then posting them as they are presented. This is at once terrifying and freeing.
My goal, however, for Literary Inktober, is not to write a perfect poem, to write a perfect story or drabble, but, instead, to capture a moment in my thinking; to allow for the freedom of drafting, to get my hand flowing on paper.The wonderful thing about this is that I can later return to a similar theme and re-write it, or re-imagine it. Beyond this, for some of the ones I really like, I might edit them a bit to simply put aside for their own use; maybe one day I’ll be able to have them published.
Often, the hardest step is putting a mark on the page, for art or writing, and I want to, in many ways, cure this fear from myself: to allow for freedom in getting what I am thinking down, and being okay with my muddled, fragmented thoughts.
While this project isn’t for crafting a poem worthy of publishing, it is to allow myself permission to write, and be okay with how I write. We all often find fault in our own writing, saying it isn’t good enough, and never will. Maybe this is true in some aspects, it never will be “good enough,” but if I don’t even write anything–how can I expect to be better?
I want Literary Inktober to encapsulate my thoughts, to allow for me to write what comes, and to be okay with mistakes, misspellings, and other mishaps. To be allowed to simply write, and maybe, along the way, I’ll find something wondrous within.
If nothing else, I want Literary Inktober to be a stepping stone for reading daily, for writing thoughts on paper daily, and for finding a home for my thoughts daily, even if they aren’t grand or profound.
Today I decided to continue reading some poems by Robert Frost, and trying to read poems I had not yet read by him, even as I read two that were familiar. The poem I found most inspiring by him today was “To Earthward.” I wrote it next to my own poem as a way to connect the two. (Even as they have no relation to one another.) I might not do this all the time, but instead simply copy down poems as I read them and love them enough, as my poetry and drabbles will be kept in a certain format so it will be easy to see what’s mine and what’s someone else’s.
I can tell, I am going to need a bigger journal than what I have already; which, I find, is a rather spectacular problem to have.