Originally published by the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective
sometimes, adopting the names ‘writer’ and ‘poet’
led her to encounters with the most amazing minds
connecting her with a larger community
at other times she thought that ‘writer’ and ‘poet’
were the loneliest names she had ever called herself
waking up every morning
to unzip her chest, her gut
and bare her truths to the world
because like others of her kind
she was complex, messy, containing
multiple truths, not a singular one
sometimes she felt like she was writing
to a small group of intimate friends
at others times
she felt like she was calling out her truths
into an empty desert landscape
without even a coyote or armadillo
to hear her words before they fell away
forlorn and unread
unheard and unacknowledged
rendering the writer, the poet herself
invisible, diminished somehow
she was always struck by the juxtaposition
of her physical body negotiating
close suburbs
crowded subways and jostling city sidewalks
on the way to her day job
while her heart and mind
wandered in the isolated wilderness
while errant words and wisps of dreams
and drops of feelings like rich, red blood
continued to seep out of her
© 2016 Revised 2019 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved
For a writer who speaks in fundamental truths, this one soars above to a Truth I think all of us who are write understand. Sometimes we feel connected to something really good, maybe even important. Sometimes we feel abandoned and lost inside an overwhelming loneliness that suffocates what matters. Thank god we have each other though, our friends who write and the community we build.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Christine Ray – The paradoxical poet
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Christine, I enjoyed this reflective piece. I especially like these lines.
“waking up every morning to unzip her chest, her gut and bare her truths to the world because like others of her kind she was complex, messy, containing multiple truths”
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