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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2020-05-31 08:26 AM



The Great Misconception


Hello,
My name is Michael and I’m a lifeaholic.
It’s been some 40 years since I truly participated.

I’ve been told life’s a journey,
And not a destination.
It seems to me life is more like a vehicle,
And not one you necessarily choose.
You’re stuck in it anyway.
I say this simply because
The whole journey thing takes place
Whether or not you wish it to.

If life has taught me one thing, it’s this:
Every single one of us suffers the great misconception.
We all seem to think we start off whole
And lose pieces of ourselves along the way.
In truth, we start off a single solitary piece,
Alone and undefined.

Before we have the luxury of defining ourselves,
We are shaped and molded by our surroundings.
Some have parents and/or siblings.
Some don’t.
Some are well off.
Most aren’t.
Some are lucky enough to see the beauty in nature.
For some, nature is blood on concrete or asphalt
And the only shade of green they recognize
Is the dollar bill.

Of all our surroundings,
Before the age of remembrance,
We begin to gather other pieces to ourselves.
Some greedily, some sparingly,
Tentatively.
Other people, places,
Objects, and pets.
We gather in pieces that just *fit.

Before long, we discover
It’s recognition that defines us;
Everybody needing more of it,
Even as pieces that don’t fit are tossed aside
And easily forgotten.
That’s right,
I was one of those pieces.

Of the very few pieces I ever held,
All were ripped from me
At a very young age.
To that extent,
Alone, with abuse and rejection
The only draws off my surroundings,
I stopped even bothering
To try to find the pieces of myself.
Never whole.
Never defined.
Pieces were only
An invitation to pain.

The years I wasted hiding in darkness
Were not completely barren.
Other hands reached to me,
Many of them, truly.
Eager for the attention,
And broken as I was,
I never even saw
The pain my sharp edges would cause them,
Nor would I have believed it.

I see it now,
The circular pattern of my journey.
Raw, and jagged
The only vehicle I have ever known.

The highways of life are littered with signs.
Most people learn which ones they can trust
And which ones they can’t.
Sadly, I learned not to trust long before
I ever learned to read,
And when trying to hide,
You never bother to read the signs,
Or at least never believe
They could apply to you.

Having consigned myself to shadow
From a very young age,
Even reaching for the doorknob
Becomes an unimaginable feat at times
As an adult.

Today, when hands reach to me I snarl.
Old wounded dogs like to
Show you their teeth if you approach,
Even if they would love nothing
More than being petted
And licking your face.
I guess I learned it from them.
They can only show you
That which they have been taught, after-all.
I mean once the natural instincts
And the desire for love
Have been beaten out of them.

I really should make clear that I,
In no manner write a word of this
Believing myself a victim of
Anyone or anything,
Other than my own choices in life.
I never envied anyone or anything either,
Though I’m not sure if I should mourn or cheer that.

My deepest pain, my one true regret
Is never learning how to love.
My heart can stir and ache and bleed for it
With the best of them,
But having never witnessed love
As a child I have never been able to
Properly yield it as an adult.

So then, I guess what I am trying to say
For those of you who think
They have lost more than they can bear,
Count the pieces you have had.
The pieces that made you “whole.”
The things that actually touched your life,
Gave it meaning, made you feel special.
The things you adored.
The things that never betrayed you,
Or maybe the ones that you never did.
This is a trick some of us can pull off
Using less than five fingers.
If you ever considered yourself whole at all,
I beg you to realize just how good you’ve had it.
Whole is not a word some of us can even imagine.

My name is Michael and I’m a lifeaholic.
I’m a little bit tired of snarling.
Today, I think I'd like to participate.


Michael Anderson

05/31/2020

With apologies to Blackie Lawless

[This message has been edited by Michael (06-06-2020 03:27 AM).]

© Copyright 2020 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Temptress
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-06-15
Posts 7136
Mobile, AL
1 posted 2020-05-31 04:01 PM


Now THIS is me getting a peek. I think we all reach a point in life where we can finally be more honest with ourselves and others, though it is still difficult to lay on a page.

I don't think I've ever believed in whole although I may have used the word in writing.  How could anyone be whole when there is continuous learning, growing,  and molding to be done? I think we mentally shed and collect until the end.

You say you never learned to love. I have a different problem.  I never learned how to be loved. Both can have heartbreaking outcomes.

Thank you for another look and interesting fragile things to contemplate. Participating can be productive. The fact does remain that the snarling and biting do need an outlet. I have writing for mine..until I don't.  



"Maybe that's the way I should go
Straight into the mouth of the unknown"

Shinedown

Temptress
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-06-15
Posts 7136
Mobile, AL
2 posted 2020-06-01 09:51 PM


I also meant to say that I love the description of life being a vehicle that we didn't choose.


"Maybe that's the way I should go
Straight into the mouth of the unknown"

Shinedown

Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California
3 posted 2020-06-01 10:18 PM


Temptress,

“Now THIS is me getting a peek. I think we all reach a point in life where we can finally be more honest with ourselves and others, though it is still difficult to lay on a page.”

Not even sure where this one came from, Temptress.  Was a 3 a.m. wake and purge, kinda thing.  Guess it’s my subconscious telling me I should reach out for maybe the first time ever instead of waiting for life to roll up on my doorstep.  Upon reading over it I sense that maybe I stand a little envious of people who hurt so much over losing someone or something dear to them… never really realized the difference between sorrow and emptiness but it’s becoming pretty clear these days.  Anyhow, doesn’t really seem like a poem upon rereading it…should probably just put it in paragraph form and throw it in prose.  That’s what it reads like to me.

Your questions I find quite thought provoking.  Could spend pages answering them probably but will try to spare you that.

“I don't think I've ever believed in whole although I may have used the word in writing.  How could anyone be whole when there is continuous learning, growing,  and molding to be done?"

On growth and change.  Two very different concepts.  (I mention change cause you speak of it in another thread).  Change is not planned and varies in results and effect.  Growth, can be planned or derive from circumstance but thought is put behind it at some point in an effort to better one’s situation.  So while you say time has changed you, I would specifically say I see much growth in you in many, many areas.  Your writing has improved tremendously btw.  You mentioned you were running out of things you could post here, I encourage you to keep writing “open worthy” poetry.  The last two you have posted I found deeply moving…definitely some of your best work.  I would still love to meet you “Behind Closed Doors” of course, but I encourage you to do both.

“I think we mentally shed and collect until the end.”  

I love that statement.  The collecting or gather part of it is exactly what I was trying to portray in this.  My problem is, I have never done any gathering at all if that makes sense.  I simply, at a very young age refused to let anything close to me ever again.  I think it’s time to try my hand at it…how else to fulfill the obvious holes in me.

“You say you never learned to love. I have a different problem.  I never learned how to be loved. Both can have heartbreaking outcomes.”  

Indeed, I know we have witnessed our share of each other’s poetry on said subjects.  Repeating old patterns and expecting different results is my habitual crime.  Working on changing that.  You seem to be doing very well these days…but I will still remind you to keep your eyes up…I’ll risk the biting.      

“Thank you for another look and interesting fragile things to contemplate. Participating can be productive. “

When I speak of participating, it is in the gathering process.  I want to make the conscious effort to bring someone or something into my life, not just wrap my arms around whomever or whatever falls my way.  

“The fact does remain that the snarling and biting do need an outlet. I have writing for mine..until I don't.”  

Exactly, poetry is the only real snarl & bite I have, but I still hate that I use it for that sometimes.
Srry for the late replies.  I know it’s late there.  My work consumes about 14 hours of my days through the week.  :/

Temptress
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-06-15
Posts 7136
Mobile, AL
4 posted 2020-06-02 12:10 PM


I remember the wake and purge well. Reaching out is difficult when it takes so much time to learn things about what you're reaching for.  I see where you're coming from with the envy, but it's no fun. I have found myself longing for the emptiness. I like this as it is, but I suppose you may do as you please. 😉 I think it works as poetry or prose.

I agree on growth and change. To me, my growth seems to have come with stronger stubbornness. I am glad my writing has improved.  I'm sure I'll never be satisfied with it. If someone else takes something useful from it then I have conquered at least one of my goals. The reason for the dwindling "Open Appropriate" store of words is mostly due to what I'll call cathartic language used because of the atmosphere of where else they live. I know that there are low opinions here and there on curse words in poetry, but it seems to be working for me from time to time.  

Maybe you gathered, but just not what you needed to gather? I filled holes with people. A lot of them were the wrong ones. I find it easier to fill mine with rocks sometimes in hopes of sinking. ( not a suicide reference)


Patterns. Lots of therapy helped me recognize them and own them, but that doesn't mean that I don't still fall into them. Lots of writing helped as well.

I am doing better in ways. I always turned to my writing when storms were coming or already there. I've been working out a bit of the past and still residing demons that came with it. There are some terrible things that I never really faced after they were over. My biting has gotten me into trouble.  

Gathering. So. Life it is, huh? 🙂 I have been guilty of catching whatever falls my way. I want to throw myself into what I want now. I know that sounds terrible.  I hope reaching out is a good thing for you.  

Why do you hate using it for biting and snarling? The bite and snarl sides should have their day in words as well. Unicorns and rainbows shouldn't get all of the stage time.  The late replies are okay. It's 11:00 here. I don't miss 14 hr days. Mine were scattered, but I don't work those hours anymore.  



"Maybe that's the way I should go
Straight into the mouth of the unknown"

Shinedown

Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California
5 posted 2020-06-04 10:24 PM


I’ll take your word for it on not changing the poem, Temptress.  You are much better in the free verse department than I ever was.  If you say it qualifies I’ll take your word for it.      

“Reaching out is difficult when it takes so much time to learn things about what you're reaching for”  

Indeed, I have no Idea what I really want, just not anything that falls into patterns I clearly recognize as no bueno.  Would love to expound but thinkin’ maybe this ain’t the place it.  

“my growth seems to have come with stronger stubbornness”  I can attest to that being 100% possible.  When you have an appropriate mindset to get your stubborn behind, it sets a foundation for you.  

“The reason for the dwindling "Open Appropriate" store of words is mostly due to what I'll call cathartic language used because of the atmosphere of where else they live. I know that there are low opinions here and there on curse words in poetry, but it seems to be working for me from time to time.”

I have a vast collection of poetry I never posted because of language.  Or I posted a dummied down version that just seemed to lose all its bite so I know where you’re coming from.  You definitely piqued my interest to what you have waiting in the wings though.

“Patterns. Lots of therapy helped me recognize them and own them, but that doesn't mean that I don't still fall into them.”

The fact you “own them” is huge.  Not many people even seem to understand the basics of that statement.  When you realize no one can make you feel any certain way, but you choose to feel a certain way based on triggers, only then can you apply change to how you react to any given situation.  A lesson that was too long in the learning for me.  Even if we fall into them again, at least we recognize it…and hopefully have to confidence in ourselves to correct the course before it takes us too far down the same road.  Boundaries need to be set, and addressed when crossed I think.

“I've been working out a bit of the past and still residing demons that came with it. There are some terrible things that I never really faced after they were over.”

Just relieved to hear the word “over” in that sentence.  I know you will carry the demons with you for the rest of your life, I just hope you’re one day completely free of the effects…that they are reduced to nothing more than a fleeting voice in your head that has zero hold on you and you can trust things like impulse once again.

“I have been guilty of catching whatever falls my way. I want to throw myself into what I want now. I know that sounds terrible”

That does not sound terrible at all.  That was kind of the gist of this poem…I have never even tried to identify what it is “I want” in life.  Kind of lived of the demands thrown at me by situation for most of my life.  Never really had the freedom to make a choice for myself.  I find that I have that luxury now, just not quite sure what to do with it.  Very curious here now though… what is it you “want now?”

“I hope reaching out is a good thing for you. “
“Maybe you gathered, but just not what you needed to gather? I filled holes with people. A lot of them were the wrong ones.”

Will be a slow walk, that is the only thing I know for sure.  I am very guilty of filling holes with the wrong people, but am beginning to see relationship traits that get me into trouble and allow for it.  I love to flirt, but that tends to lead to too much focus on sex, and I don’t want sex, no matter how good it is, to be the foundation of any relationship I step into.  I really really want to get to know someone, soul to soul if that’s a possible thing.  I would definitely consider that a worthwhile gathering and count it as filling a whole in the endeavor to possibly make one more “whole”.

“My biting has gotten me into trouble. “  

Um, your “eye biting” or you poetry biting?   I think I want details either way.        

“Why do you hate using it for biting and snarling? The bite and snarl sides should have their day in words as well. Unicorns and rainbows shouldn't get all of the stage time. “

Poetry has always been my emotional outlet.  The way I choose to bleed out things I found to dark to express otherwise.  When Ron invited me to this page, I told him I would only come if he instated a Dark forum because I didn’t feel I could write “open worthy” poetry at that point in my life.  I soon realized I was isolating myself more than necessary but even so…the unicorns have been quite rare in my writing.  

It’s not that I hate using poetry for biting and snarling but at this point in my life, I just feel that maybe I have selfishly abused a gift I feel was given to me from God, that that is not something I swallow easy at this time.  It comes down to what I spoke of earlier…about “no  one being able to make me feel anything, and maybe “depressive disorder diagnosis” aside, I gave into it to easily.  These are the ponderings of someone who spent most of his adult life on antidepressants and has been off them for the better part of the past year and doing better than he ever has.

Anyhow, I think I should reiterate again that maybe this conversation is getting a little deep to be sharing in a poetry forum.  I’ve known you a long time and am more than comfortable sharing anything with you, but maybe not so much with people I don’t even know.  Please let me know your thoughts on this.

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