poems

Blessing for Unrequited Love

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I was reading a book (The Bell and the Blackbird) by one of my favorite poets, David Whyte, and I came across this poem that resonated with me deeply. It’s about unrequited love, but can also be about any sort of lost relationship. I thought I’d share it here just because it’s touching and there’s so much wisdom in the idea of wishing blessings on those who hurt us or leave us.

BLESSING FOR UNREQUITED LOVE

A blessing on the eyes that do not see me as I wish.
A blessing to the ears that can never hear the far inward
footfall of my own shy heart. Blessings to the life
in you that will live without me, to the open door
that now and forever takes you away from me,
blessings to the path that you follow alone and blessings
to the path that awaits you with another.

A blessing to the way you will not know me
in the years to come [……] Let me be
generous enough and large enough and brave enough
to say goodbye to you without any understanding,
to let you go into your own understanding,
to live fully in your understanding, and to gift
your understanding. May you always be
in the sweet, central, hidden shadow of my memory
without needing to know — who you were when
you first came — who you were when you stayed —
and who you will become in your freedom now
that you have passed through my life and gone.

–David Whyte
from The Bell and the Blackbird

The river

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(This is just a quick thought after a walk in the park this morning, not finished by any means. Totally rough draft, but thought I’d share anyway.)

____________________________

I walked on the concrete pathway
Squirrels playing around the base of large fir trees
Dogs walking their owners
Dappled sunshine
Then I heard it
The river calling me
It was out of sight
But unmistakable
I followed a small rocky pathway that veered into the woods
And then I saw the source of the calling
It was wide and grey
With sun glinting off the tops of waves
Crashing over rocks and fallen trees
Originating in the mountains
Parented by small streams
The wilderness passing through the city
Calling to those walking by
But how many heed the call?
How many listen and hear?
How many alter their path when destiny calls?
The wilderness sharing its wildness
Through the crashing waters
In a local city park

Facing the Unknown

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PART ONE: FACING THE UNKNOWN
______________________________

rest in simplicity
finding
a quiet sense of self
following
an invisible heat
and turning back
to the ground of reality
_______________________________

the place of vulnerability
is a doorway
for our best gifts
a great hidden dynamic of life
a relationship
with the great unknown elements
moving toward a new world
a new work
a central foundation
___________________________

the details of life
speak to us
in their own voices
we must apprentice ourselves
humbly
giving ourselves over
to learning
to a change of identity
to indescribable beauty
________________________________

the winter of listening
a faculty of seasonality
the conversational nature of life
its growth depends on rain
on sun
changing leaves
bittersweet
courage and
maturity
_______________________________

a normal part
of human existence
a core human confidence
what is the conversation?
disrupt the present narrative
not knowing what to say
you don’t know how
to play the game
don’t let others
smother your humility
______________________________

naming things
is a tool
of belonging
_______________________________

life is the long farewell
a presence that holds our losses
_______________________________

a well-felt sadness
can be as generous toward others
as a well-felt joy
_________________________________

our fiercest cycles of life
a gift to others
_____________________________

life as an enemy force
you may not achieve everything
feeling as if you don’t belong
cycles of humiliation
disruption
falling apart
what if it’s all about nothing?
_______________________________

start close in
the elements inside us
are unique to us
multilayered contexts
held together
in conversation
with a larger landscape
beautiful and deep
calling up
through an open door
___________________________________

awake
just into darkness
into a day of
trepidation/excitement
these forces and tides
will never come again
pretend or ignore
or look it in the face
make sense
of the complexity of life
_________________________________

we don’t have to be
an image of perfection
acknowledge
where you are
remember
our particularities of life
stop telling stories
of the same visions
riches
difficulties
form an image
inside yourself
something
you’re following
the elemental reality
of existence
the disciplines
of an everyday
life
________________________________

to be human is to be visible
you are not an accident amid accidents
ask the question
turn away from previous conversations
take the first step
the step you don’t want to take
commit to a new unknown
____________________________________

grow into the story you’ve been told since you were a child
something is ready to spark in you
a robust vulnerability
a new pattern
hold these in the ways that only humans can
what shape awaits
in the tree of you?
_____________________________

real creativity
takes place
in the grit of life
a wordless
complexity
creates spaciousness
around the unknown
____________________________________

a murder

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you want to commit a murder
the Grief inside you has grown a body
it breathes
it eats
it shits
it bites
Grief is so alive now
its name is capitalized
this Grief that is alive
this living hellish Grief must die
you want to smother Grief in its bed at night
you want to smother Grief with your favorite pillow
when the dreams come to haunt you
and Grief stirs awake
you want to shove Grief off the freeway overpass
watch Grief splatter in the oncoming traffic
while your favorite song comes on the radio
goodbye Grief
you want to see Grief jump off the tallest building
you want to feed Grief to the wolves at the zoo
you want to starve Grief in a box at Christmas
you want to choke Grief with a child’s hair ribbon
you want to commit a murder

– from Grief Song

find the magic

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find the magic
that will only come
through telling your story
the one you’re afraid to tell
you’re afraid to open that box
because you may never stop crying
sit in the sunshine
and write the story
in bits
and batches
phrases
words
prose and poetry
when the tears well up
stop
close your eyes
let the sun warm your eyelids
and then try
to sing

– from Grief Song

grief song

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someday
you will enjoy the avocado
someday
you will smile at the wind
the rain
the sun
you will feel these again
it will be different
it will be real

– from Grief Song

the fabric of my soul

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inside the fabric of my feelings
in the warp and weave of my existence
you wove yourself into my life and
more than my heart broke that day

you took more than my hopes and dreams
you took more than life itself
as I doubled in agony the tears poured
drowning in the blood-tinged grief

my heart rendered into pieces
unfixable, surrounded in death and pain
did you rejoice in the torment you brought?
were you aware of the devastation?

I lost track of the hours days months years
one empty day weighing as much as another
the days were long the nights were longer

on those days when I gave up on life
were you pleased to have such an effect?
did you feel even the smallest regret?

as my heart kidneys organs failed
did you know you held the power of life?
did you know you held the power of death?

you don’t hold that power now
now I can count the days again
there may be joy missing
but there’s no longer torment

there may still be empty spaces
but there are new loves and joys
I gave you the power of life and death
but I have now taken that power back

I will never again give someone
the power to destroy me
even if you still rejoice in my pain
I refuse to let your joy torment me

I will always miss the you I used to know
the truest love and deepest friend
but I will never miss the you who you’ve become
the you who attempted to murder
the very fabric of my soul

Mania poems

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I put together a small collection of poems and other writings that I wrote from the perspective of someone with Bipolar Disorder.  I thought about putting them into a small book, but I’ve just never come to a point where I’m comfortable with that. Not sure I’m comfortable putting them here on my blog, either, so I may end up removing this if it gets too scary.  Self-disclosure can be frightening.

Click below to open a pdf file containing all of the writings.

Mania Poems

Eggshells

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you realize it’s time
to come to terms with solitude
don’t be afraid
art resides there
the nest is not empty
there are shells of future days
warming amid the
woven twigs

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Poem and painting by Debi Taylor-Hough.