This is an extraordinary write, very deep and personal...someplace in time I think we've all visited at one time or another. We become numb to if we're lucky, then there are those currents of despair that rain upon our soul so wounding. Captivating read.
Posted 11 Years Ago
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11 Years Ago
being taunted and bullied as a child...34 years old now Frieda...but still, when I'm around a group .. read morebeing taunted and bullied as a child...34 years old now Frieda...but still, when I'm around a group of people I don't know, or around people I went to school with...I feel like I'm ten again...shrinking...shrinking I am.
11 Years Ago
I understand that well, I've never been bullied except by my own father, and I regress quite easily .. read moreI understand that well, I've never been bullied except by my own father, and I regress quite easily in the face of any kind of connection whatsoever.
11 Years Ago
my Dad did that too..called me stupid on a regular basis..I guess that's why bullying strikes a sens.. read moremy Dad did that too..called me stupid on a regular basis..I guess that's why bullying strikes a sensitive chord with me.
11 Years Ago
oh I got 'idiot' after stupid, how fun eh? That song 'Memories' comes to mind!
11 Years Ago
better yet....later in life I heard "I think of you and sex" in the same sentence....so he's dead to.. read morebetter yet....later in life I heard "I think of you and sex" in the same sentence....so he's dead to me now. Even if related by blood...some people cause too much pain to keep them around.
11 Years Ago
sorry Frieda...sorry for us..and all the dead beat fathers.
11 Years Ago
Same here dear friend, we showed them though, rose above it, most days anyway!
11 Years Ago
what does not kill us..can only make us stronger...wiser. xo
I have underestimated the emotional scars..my gawd...after conversing with you briefly..I had to sit.. read moreI have underestimated the emotional scars..my gawd...after conversing with you briefly..I had to sit in a dark quiet room for a few minutes...regain composure.
We never know how our words will be read by others. I read this poem very personally. I dread ridicule. I listen to my voice on a tape recorder and think 'they will laugh.' This line also resonates with me, 'I cannot show them my light' for precisely the reason you describe, 'they might blow it out.' Of course there comes a point when -- to be true to our creativity -- we have to take the risk and face the prospect of rejection and 'a darker night.' Perhaps, perhaps... Perhaps once we have been rejected and spent time in said 'darker night' we might emerge as the real article, diamond like, rock solid, sure. But there is pain in all this. Again 'speak for me please' resonates also because I can't get my voice to adequately reflect the words I write, in part because of some fear holding me back, the fear of rejection that you describe here. Perhaps there is a companion poem to this one, 'Forecasting Sun...' in which some kind of mad confidence wins the day my not caring what anyone else thinks. Perhaps not to care is what we creative folk need free ourselves from the fear of rejection, and only then can we realise our abilitiess whatever they may be. Your lines made me think they did.
'I need your help to stand a little taller' ---> wow, I think everyone has needed that helping hand before. It is easy to say that self-esteem comes from within, but without that magic umbrella shielding you from those words and that ridicule. This is a powerful piece about a topic that is close to my heart. Well done.
I like the artwork and the poem. You create a interesting situation in this poem.
"Speak for me please
my mouth cannot open
but I hear their whispers
every word "
Thank you for the excellent poem.
Coyote
Never fun drowning in other peoples ridicule or when your arm gets tired holding up the umbrella when its pouring. Always nice to have someone hold it up. =) Beautiful