confessionalism

the merits and drawbacks of writing poetry that captures my essence is the topic on the table at the moment. at my best friend's house, we're going to belly dance in her basement studio, since there was no tai chi at the buddist monastery. but i also have a meeting today with someone who may help me out with a particular issue which has my heart.

when you write something everyone experiences it.

yes, but it's like a mural or painting on the wall. i don't let it out until i'm past it (which is and isn't true).

i wondered when i was reading your book if i was ready to be so intimate with you.

it's why i'm a confessional poet, because i can take you there.

i just didn't know if i was ready to go.

right.

for me, writing is an exorcism. once i reveal the depths of my depravity, it's gone. once i process it on the page, it leaves me. and i move on.

yes, but we're still there and bringing you back.

it's a piece of my art, and i say, yes, i created that. but it's not me any longer. i say, look at where i'm at now.

right.

the guys at work have long been asking for my poetry book. these are the educated gentlemen i worked with. and while i wanted to give it to them, i know what therein lies. i chose carefully the poem i would share with my greek scholar friend.

my last day of work, i gave him my poetry book.

after you read it, you'll know why i didn't let you read it until i was gone.

thank you, i'll be in touch.

and the same with my replacement.

i look forward to reading it. i'll call you.

fine.

...time for belly dance to start, i must away... perhaps i'll continue this thought later...perhaps not.