Talking to Myself

December 23, 2004

I used to write poetry. I still write poetry today.
My father died when I was 16. My mother died when I was 32.
When I was about twelve years old, an urge to write poetry seized me. I would be filled with passion, emotion, and angst and simply need to set pen to page. Words spilled out of me, overflowing into page after page of poems, some good, some banal, some terrible. Between the age of 13 and 16 I wrote over 300 poems.
Then my father passed away. And my urge to write did as well. Maybe facing my own mortality in his death caused me to abandon writing. Maybe the effort of clamping down on my feelings of grief caused me to shut off and shut out all of the other feelings I was used to expressing in my poetry. For the next 16 years I grew up. I put away childhood urges and sank my creative energies into other more practical endeavors. I practically gave up on the poet within, and gave in to the world around me.
And then my mother passed away. Again, I found myself facing my own mortality, and unable (or unwilling) to hide the emotions away again. Words, like my tears, began to flow again. And flow… and flow… and flow…
This blog will feature a selection of my poems from then and now. I have tried to present poems with similar themes together to allow the reader an opportunity to see the change from the 16-year-old poet to the 36-year-old poet. Vanity, age, or wisdom, has caused me to do some editing and refinement to my original poetry, but only in cases (I hope) where the edits do some justice to the original idea.
I hope you enjoy the result. Please share your feedback with me by commenting on poem you like (and those you don’t) so I can learn from your feedback!


  1. This comment moved from the old blog site — original date lost.

    Your poetry is so beautiful, insightful and thought provoking – just as you are! Thanks for sharing!

  2. Your words are beautiful, from your heart, and healing I hope. I read this profile after commenting on 2 poems near 1 a.m.

    My heart goes out to you for losing your father at such a young and tender age. I lost mine in my early 2o’s even though he was still alive. He died 2 yrs ago, after an 11 bout with a rare terminal illness. The main reason for my SilkenThreads blog besides writing, is to heal, because I wasn’t able to mourn him at the time… as *partly* explained in the current post there.

    That’s a very young age to lose your mother and it sounds recent since I think you’re still in your 30’s. Losing family through death, abuse, estrangment, or other reasons is profound.

    I’m glad you have opened your creative side again. I enjoy your blog! I,too, went into the science fields, although I wanted to pursue the arts. That’s not for here. It’s past and time to move forward, like you’ve done!

    Best to you, your family and kids now,

  3. the deception of understanding
    goes beyond the cloak of secrecy
    where the sole is active in comprehension
    of something that has no answer
    yet resolution may ultimately come
    to questions not asked by time that waits

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