20th of October is the National Day on Writing.
For me writing is a form of therapy…it helps me get all the stuff churning in my mind on paper which is extremely freeing.
20th of October is the National Day on Writing.
For me writing is a form of therapy…it helps me get all the stuff churning in my mind on paper which is extremely freeing.
Created this jpg this morning as the thought has been running around in my head for a while now and its become my personal motto!
(C) T. Altman 2017
I was around 21 when I showed a friend some of the poetry I had written up to that point. We were planning on attending a poetry reading group and I wanted some feedback on my work before going “public”with it. It was a huge deal for me, as before this I had never shown anyone my poetry.
This friend was very focused and silent, whilst she looked through my notebook of handwritten poems…mostly in neat print which at times became cursive. After what seemed like an eon, she looked up at me and said “you write like Sylvia Plath” to which I replied “Who?“, as I had no idea who Sylvia Plath was at the time.
Like I’ve mentioned before – I wasn’t exposed to the best English literature at the working class public schools I attended growing up. For the most part and if I am speaking frankly, I don’t ever recall being taught anything about poetry or poets for that matter. The poets I had been exposed to were the ones I found on my own. These tended to be poets from the Romantic era like Byron, Shelley, Keats and Poe, as I had developed an obsession with the Victorian period as a teen.
Soon after, I found myself borrowing my friends copy of her collection of Sylvia Plath’s work and realized that my poetry did resemble her style. This was completely unintentional and worried me so much I stopped writing for a while. I was so fearful about not emulating that it made me stop creating any work at all!
Then, I finally read “The Bell Jar”. I completely resonated and understood where the protagonist was coming from. Something inside clicked. I released the expectation and worry I had placed upon myself.
I went back to writing poetry and I write the way I am compelled to. Whether it be free or rhyme, flowing or constructed, personal or observational – I don’t care what I sound like. As long as I am getting my feelings out and expressing myself as I feel compelled to, I feel good about it.
Syliva’s style was autobiographical and so is mine and we deal with the same subject matter of depression, disturbances and death. The older I get the more comfortable I get with my poetry and as long as I personally feel something when I write it, I will keep at it.
If you would like to read some of my work, here are a few poems I have written in the last year:
“Wear your heart on your skin in this life.”
― Sylvia Plath
(c) T. Altman 2017
Other than my mother who greatly influenced my love of reading, growing up – I was surrounded by people who didn’t read for pleasure or personal growth. I, however spent a significant amount of time reading for the love and knowledge.
I know people who say they haven’t read a book since they were forced to in school and that boggles my mind because I couldn’t imagine that myself. A couple of these same people have then gone out and read the Twilight or 50 Shades trilogies due to the hype in the media and think its the best literary creations they have ever come across (simply because they haven’t exposed themselves to reading anything else). I completely disagree but the way I look at it is that at least they are reading SOMETHING!
I personally believe you need to exercise your brain and reading does that.
Regardless of the book being good or not according to best seller lists, reviews, recommendations or the like – just do it – read a book and expand your mind as its never too late to do that!
See You Next Tuesday
Never-mind untruths meaning why
Actuality a passive aggressive error
Spit upon your venomous sly
Cult of the abhorrent phrenic wearer
—
Reaking of uneducated contempt
Willingly forgotten and buried en-mass
Bad behavior you aren’t exempt
Carnivorous bark justified lack of class
—
Unrepentant as coffin bearer
Bride to the death throws
Always siding with internal terror
Backhanded lamb skinned clothes
—
Image-less facade will fade and crack
Cackling before compassionless mask
Aberrated head placed upon the rack
Stolen lips and forged task
—
Guilt trips heavily taxed
Resent razor blade tongue
Heart fence wrapped and waxed
The dance is done we’re stung
—
The song, the verse, the key
Gemini spilled lies granted
I am free – but you will never be
Your place with me transplanted
(C) T. Georgitsis 2016
Was discussing poetry and other forms of artistic expression with one of my younger friends who “gets it” and during this to and fro, introduced her to one of my favorites which she’d never heard of before and I shared why I loved her and what called to me. During the conversation I brought up how she took her own life like a few of my other favorite writers and realized most of my favorite artists have suffered from the big black dog.
For those of you who are artists of any kind – take hope there is more of us than you realize and even though you feel alone, you’re not. Dont give up! Using art to express what you are going through is beneficial not for your own sanity but for those who drink from the water-bowl of the big black dog.
I came across this list on famous artists who struggled with the black dog’s barking and its a pretty good one. I do however feel they should of included some of my other favorites like Dylan Thomas, Anne Sexton, Tennessee Williams, Virginia Woolf and Emily Dickinson.