Unexpected Turns

  One of the many adages that my mother taught me as a child was to expect the unexpected. It was her way of making it clear to her daughters that life is unpredictable. We should not be surprised when it throws us a curve ball.

In previous posts, I have talked about being a widow and going through periods of grief, change, sadness, growth, and loneliness with more bits of change mixed in here and there. In 2018, I was reminded of another adage my mother has always used, “Never say never again.” Last year will always be the year that I added poetry to my list of writing genres.

  Poetry and I have never been close. I look at things at bit differently than most people, poetry became evil to me as a child when my interpretations of elements and symbolism used in great poetry were never what the teacher wanted to hear nor were they deemed acceptable as an answer. I read poetry, learned about poetry, and interpreted poetry for one reason and one reason only, because it was required of me. I befriended others who loved poetry and admired their skill with understanding and creating it but in the words of Austin Powers and yes I use them a lot, poetry wasn’t my bag Baby. It still wasn’t my bag when after having exhausted my woes of being a widow through journal writing that I began exploring other mediums. I managed to squeak one out every now and then. As I explored various aspects here and there more poems came squeaking out.

  One night, after a terrible work day, I did something that I had not done in a while, I wrote one that followed specific guidelines. It was an exercise. I was a nervous wreck that night. It seemed like a better option than other coping mechanisms that people typically use. The poems were being collected to wish someone well, I love turning negatives into positives, what could be better?

  “Meet Me In Morocco” was a romantic homage to the film “Casablanca.” I was pleased with how it turned out. I have to admit that there is a part of me that will always feel like I was meant to write it for some unexplained reason. A copy of it hangs in my living room to this day.

  Several weeks later, I got down with some rainy day blues. It was the first bad weather weekend of the fall and I was not ready for it. I wrote several more poems. Sad, lonely, dark poetry that was filled with despair. While reading them over, I realized that I had been writing similar poems for quite some time. I took a look back at the files on my computer. If there was a more unexpected turn for me in my writing life I couldn’t begin to say what it would be.

It occurred to me there could be enough poems to publish a small volume of work some day. Why would I do that? Then I thought to myself, “why not?” I had done this much writing. I have nothing to lose. So I added another project in progress to my “Under Construction” list.

  I do have a couple of challenges ahead of me. First and foremost, the title piece. I tend to title books when they're in their infancy as a result, “Wild Card” was born. I decided that I want the book to be a volume of poetry that will begin with a dark sadness to it, I am also determined that no matter what, it has to have a happy ending. The poems at the end of the book are going to be poems of love, joy, happiness, and hope. 

  In recent weeks, when I wanted to dip a toe into writing without staying long, I would draft out a poem.

   My last two poems have been closer to the positive end of the spectrum. I have several more happy poems that need to be added in coming months. As for “Wild Card” well, there are stirrings of what that poem might be cooking in my brain as I am typing this.

  Remember, adages are adages for a reason. “Never say never again,” because you might just find that never again comes all too soon.