Art and Writing for Insight into Emotions-
We often either don't know how to express disturbing feelings in constructive ways, or we may
have no outlet for our feelings due to circumstances. We may not know what we feel, even if we are fortunate to have
a supportive person with whom to share our thoughts. Without some kind of healthy expression, our natural emotions which
are neither good nor bad intrinsically, often become inwardly toxic or outwardly destructive. Here is where paper and pen
can be a process of release for so-called negative emotions that may be socially unwelcome.
These poems and art are part of my process, my companions almost. I return to them over and over for
clarity and comfort. They remind me and reassure me of who I am. Some of my poems and art may seem very dark, but this isn't
about "dwelling" on pain. Pushing bad feelings away doesn't diminish them, it can actually make more powerful. Expressing
difficult feelings helps to get them moving and out of one's system. It can cathartic and liberating. This can work
for you too.
(Poems categorized by emotional theme)
On Loss and Rebirth
There is a certain quietude
in the wake of devastation and loss...
I mean.after the wailing and crying...
when the seemingly
well of tears
has dried up from the inside out..
when the voice is so hoarse
it can lament no longer..
And, oh, the physical pain!..
the body has been
slammed and pounded,
by intolerable sights and sounds,
intolerable knowledge and images,
and anguish so much bigger
than its own dimensions,
(as inconcievable as a nuclear blast contained
within a matchbox).
But only then,
in the silence and emptiness
sculpted by the wildfires
of torment and grief, .
of cherished hopes and all that was "supposed" to be ...
there is a faint and tentative stirring...
From a deep, deep sleep
mistaken as death,
amidst the silent empty landscape,
there comes an awakening...
Ignited by the very same fires
emerging from the terrible cleansing
which swept the earth,
as it destroyed,..
Look, can you see the clearing?
a space for what is new?
as the beginning of time)
There beneath the scarring crust,
within the broken heart...
There lies the tender germ of true becoming.
People… faces…. milling by,
We are clearly not the same.
Longing for touch,
I want way too much,
(I cease to exist without connection).
My need is too great,
such unbearable ache,
that hungers for true affection.
The chasm between
may be misjudged or unseen,
but I can never forget its meaning.
Knowing naught of my hell,
yet they’re trying to sell,
a life to me so demeaning.
The language they speak,
with tongue tucked in cheek,
words so cleverly misleading.
Seeing through eyes that distort the truth
to what they find most pleasing.
Will they ever honor this world of mine,
not insist I remain within their lines
and their narrow way of being?
If the greatest truth unfurled
upon the alter of their so (im)perfect world
and threatened their way of seeing,
they’d turn away and rue the day
that they had a glimpse of what
might be most freeing.
If Flowers Cried
Petals stiffly clenched from long wintry darkness, half formed bud weeps with joy at rumours of the sun.
What Was Lost
Honor the sweet longing
that runs so deep,
honor the ache inside
that never leaves,
reminding always of something lost,
so bottomless, wide and steep..
And for what was lost
but never quite posessed..
a perfection at least imagined
if not perhaps so real....
of that dream, i can attest.
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Inner Vision Art by Susan Kennedy Stafford
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