Day 6

I read somewhere that it takes 66 days to form a new habit. In the interest of getting into the habit of blogging regularly, I plan to publish one post a day for the next 66 days, finishing up on October 13, 2020. Content-wise, each day's post can include anything that crosses my mind and that I hope will spark something in yours, whether poetry, prose, art, or the occasional rant. Here's to 66 days of finding something to say :)

For Day 6, I'm trying out a new type of post focusing on "the process of poetry". This post centers on my poem, "Unraveling", from first draft to final product.

 

First, my initial draft. At this point I had a vague idea in mind, that this poem, written after processing a difficult break-up, should include the aftermath of that time and the decision to love the mundane moments of life even if things seem hopeless on any given day. As you can see, there're the beginnings of some interesting imagery here, but nothing especially coherent.

 

From this rough beginning (much of which did not get used), I refined my ideas into a second draft that expanded some of the initial imagery, grouped lines differently, and discarded lines that didn't seem to fit. I also tried to impose some type of regular meter on the poem, but it still ended up pretty loose, especially in the second half.

A much more coherent second draft(I only got a photo of the first half of the poem, unfortunately):

 

And this is pretty close to the final version of "Unraveling"! I broke up the lines into stanzas, edited a little more, and sent the result to a couple friends for critique. One friend did find the loose meter in the second half jarring after the shorter, tighter lines in the first half. However, another friend told me not to edit further, that the poem in its current form sounded like genuine words from the heart. I, being lazy and confident in my genius, listened to this second bit of advice instead. (No, in all honesty, I would've loved to impose a regular rhyme and meter to the entire poem. Doing so while keeping my meaning intact was just beyond my abilities). 

Voila:

 

 

"Unraveling"

Is it safety, or is it pride

To keep all my fears inside,

Every millionth might-have-been

So I can never miss them?

 

Is it fear, or is it kindness

To push against love’s rosy blindness

By pushing you away

When I want nothing more than you

To hold my hand, and I your heart?

 

The price we pay when castles fall apart

We keep on paying after we find cottages to dwell in

With flowers bravely struggling to grow in window-boxes

I hide from you between the window and the wall

In the space between the silences and words

And you wonder why I seem so far away

 

I could recite to you the lies I’ve spoken 

And every lie that was told to me

And that I keep on telling myself again and again and again

 

Broken phrases, broken syllables 

Broke my walls so long ago 

That the cracks no longer show 

Hairline fractures pierce my heart

Pulling every thread apart

So now I love without a single string attached

 

Unraveling, unraveling, unraveling

My dream-spun tapestries into 

A web of threads I lay beneath your feet

As if to dare you to see beyond

The faded, fraying mess I spread

To every dream I wove in them

When hopes were high and

Promises were for believing

When love was blind and in its blindness

I saw everything I wanted

So now I love without a single string attached

 

I love the fleeting moment and the one-in-thousand chance

I love the glint of sunlight dappling crests of ocean waves

I love the wave that overwhelms the message in the bottle, lost at sea

 I love the rushing whisper of the faster-rushing wind

Between the light and shadow, where to breathe is to begin

I love the faltering footsteps of the children and the aged 

The hollowness of silence and the pulsing hum of change

 

I hold my hand outstretched, no grasping fist

Tries to contain the world and make it wait within

While I catch my breath

I love the waking and the waiting and the never knowing

I love as if I had no second chance

I love without a single string attached

 

 

Till tomorrow,

Clara