The following poem was my very first attempt at writing for the Anxiety / Release Collaboration I was invited to participate in by Nicky Mortlock (@ArtiPeeps on Twitter). What is this collaboration about? Well, Nicky has invited 4 poets and 4 artists to work on this. A poet will get matched up with an artist, making 4 pairs. The poet will write a piece on Anxiety, and the artist will have an opportunity to interpret the words into art. As far as I know, the 4 poems and corresponding art pieces will be on display at some point in England.
As I wrote my way through the theme of 'Anxiety', I really found myself getting dark. My first couple pieces were very dark, and gradually they became a lighter shade of grey. It has been an extremely interesting and enlightening process. The writing, the communication with the artist, exploring anxiety and learning about it. I have grown a lot as a writer, and have learned to write about some emotions that I've never really penned about.
And so, dear reader, the piece that follows is the first attempt. Do not be afraid for me. I live in a world of fog at times, but never have I experienced what I have written. The emotion is born from research, the words have been nurtured with creativity and passion. Yes, the pieces I have written for this collaboration have affected me deeply. That's what writing does to me.
I hope you enjoy this first piece. And if you don't, I understand completely. But all I ask, at the very least, is to appreciate the effort, the research, the creativity and the passion that goes into this piece, and every other poem I have ever written.
Rod E. Kok
March 2014
They said I was wrong
in the head, a case study
for the shrinks.
Neurotic, psychotic...
and a few other
- otics and - olics.
Uniqueness allows me to stand out,
drawing attention by my lack of
animation, but they call it
a case.
Although I try to live
normally,
quiet pressure builds
from outside and my skin
turns clammy.
Studies show...
blah blah blah...
a vacant stare as I
withdraw from forces which
label me.
I am failing in my effort
to remain whole,
'at peace' is barely registering
in my need to co-exist.
With quickening breath,
life giving air eludes my
needful lungs. I cannot see
beyond the red rimmed
glasses of my tear-filled eyes.
Furtive glances reveal
those who wish me
locked away, or at the very least...
hidden.
Why?
Why me? I truly am
defensible, responsible,
along with a couple more
-ibles and -ables.
Yet you have caused me
this unbearable angst,
I can't take
your condescending looks,
touches, thoughts.
I am leaving.
For good.
Thanks for the
ride.
I'm left speechless. Well done and very emotion evoking. Bravo on the write if not the topic
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Lori. This whole process in coming up with a final poem has been extremely emotional. A most difficult ride, but very rewarding.
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