Poetry as Creative Therapy

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Readers have been asking why I post poems only to revise them at a later date. Would it not be better to wait until I am fully satisfied with the finished piece before going ahead and sharing it? Well, yes, it would, but I am satisfied with it at the time and want to share it; if I have any reservations, I will delay, but even then, it can be good to share what may only transpire to be the genesis of a poem; I may well make changes to its wording and structure later, but any revisions always try to retain the spirit of the original poem.

While I do my best to interest readers with my poems, I have made no secret of the fact that the blogs are also an important form of creative therapy for me as well. I suspect my recovery from a nervous breakdown many years ago has never (quite) been as complete as I like to think. Moreover, any hangovers from that terrible time may well have been reawakened by my prostate cancer being treated with hormone therapy (Zoladex) since its being first diagnosed in 2012. I'm not complaining, just being pragmatic; I cannot ignore the effect (and influence) health concerns have had on my poetry, so they are relevant to answering the question.

In the early days of hormone therapy, I expressed concern to my consultant that it was making me feel frightened a lot of the time, and was also affecting my thought processes, especially my memory. I was assured these were side-effects of the treatment. Over subsequent years, I have learned to deal with them, but if I though I was winning the battle, I could not have been more wrong.

The sense of creeping fear leaves me from time to time, often for very prolonged periods, although it has returned with a vengeance since the coronavirus pandemic struck. However, memory loss and disorganised thought processes have dogged me from the start. Not helpful for a wannabe poet, I hear you say, and you would be right. I have struggled with writing poems (and fiction) for some years now, probably before I even started the blog, but hadn’t got the measure of my shortcomings.

I gave up on the fiction as no publishers were interested. Even so, working with words has been a lifesaver. Without the blogs, I suspect I would have given up on myself in the early days of my prostate cancer. Some days are a nightmare, not least because I forget the meaning of words with which I have been familiar most of my life and need to keep looking them up to make sure I am using them correctly. At the same time, organizing my thoughts into poem mode can take days, and that’s before I have to start wrestling with words and meaning. Completing both processes encourages me to continue, not only writing poetry but also getting ready to face another day.

My life was so different before either the prostate cancer or a bad fall in about 2012 when I fractured my left ankle and have had a mobility problem ever since, especially now I am in my mid-seventies. I used to enjoy walking for hours in the countryside and parks, long cliff walks by the sea, wherever the whim and might take me. Similarly, I used to love exploring art galleries and museums etc. and I miss all that because you can be sure that either prostate cancer or Foot will have other ideas... 😉

I am not making excuses for my poetry not always being up to the mark, simply telling it how it is and attempting to answer the question as to why I post poems only to revise them at a later date. I have always enjoyed writing poetry, nor just by way of creative therapy either. My first published poem appeared in my secondary school magazine when I was still only 11 years-old. I’ve never thought of myself as an especially good poet, but hope what some of my poems have to say will continue to resonate with some readers even after the Grim Reaper comes calling.

Readers often ask why I have an entry on Wikipedia. I didn’t know myself for a long time, but it appears it is because I also write gay-interest poetry, and there is little enough of it about. Gay poets, like gay novelists, have good reason to want to try and correct the many misperceptions many people have about gay people, the fake news and misleading stereotypes that haunt some of us all our lives.

Rightly or wrongly, I grew up in a family that gave a very vulnerable fourteen years-old Roger the impression they had as low an opinion of same sex relationships as many if not most people in those days. Consequently, I remained in the proverbial closet until my early thirties; even then, it would take a nervous breakdown - that had been simmering away in me like an awakening volcano - to eventually set me on a course that would not only restore a flagging self-confidence, but also result in my emerging from the closet, ready at last to start looking the world in the eye as a gay man. Oh, I made lots of mistakes along the way, and regret them all, especially where I may well inadvertently have hurt other people’s feelings.

Enough of all that, hope you won’t think I have strayed too far from the point I was originally trying to, make; few points worth making can be made in a few words.

Take care, folks, and keep well,

HUGS,

Roger 

PS In spite or (or because of) everything I’ve said, I do follow my own advice. I wake up each morning feeling physically sick for having to get through another day... BUT... by the time I have given myself a pep talk, got dressed and had some breakfast...YES, the positive mindset is already ticking over nicely, and invariable sees me through until bed-time... if only just, sometimes. 😁