Have you ever explored your emotions through the medium of poetry? I do occasionally. I’ve written about this subject before, and when I did, I shared that even though most of my study of poetry has focused on the analysis of other people’s poems (such as an analysis I wrote of Seamus Heaney’s poem “The Rain Stick”), I did once take a poetry writing class. I shared a poem I wrote for that class, and I wrote about how it was the product of vague memories from a time when I lived in Pittsburgh, PA.
Reflecting again on that poem now, I can see in my memory images of walking along the streets of my neighborhood there, which were filled with mid-sized brick apartment houses and single-family homes and which I incorporated into the poem. I can also vividly remember the woman who lived across the hall from me and who I used to help carry groceries up to her third-floor walk-up apartment. Thinking about it now years later, I’m filled with nostalgia and affection for both her and that neighborhood.
Back in March 2020, I shared a few more poems, and these were focused on the theme of St. Patrick’s Day. The poems were mostly lighthearted and experimented with poetic forms I’m not accustomed to writing in. They were an attempt to lighten my and others’ spirits in a time of widespread pandemic lockdowns (which, I confess, I sometimes wish we could go back to rather than facing the fear of this still rapidly spreading disease every time I go out in public).
Today, I’m sharing another poetry writing experience. This poem deals with both uplifting and melancholic emotions as well as the emotions of love and grief. Like the St. Patrick’s Day poems, I again decided to experiment with a poetic form I’m not used to writing in, this time the ode. I’ve modeled my poem roughly on the stanza form and rhyme scheme of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “Ode to the West Wind.”
I’ve found that poetry writing can be a great way to express my feelings. The form of the poem doesn’t matter to me. Sometimes I write in free verse, while other times I use a particular poetic form as a heuristic to structure my thinking. Either way, I find myself processing both positive and negative emotions, bringing them to my awareness rather than letting them linger unidentified in my depths. Perhaps you’ll be inspired to do the same.
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Gardenia (Flickr/Alabama Extension, Janet Guynn) |
Ode to the Gardenia
I
O hedgerow of gardenia flower,
As if from lovely heaven sent,
You trigger my reflective power,
And make me think of things long spent.
I wonder into days gone by,
When once your heady perfumed scent
And bold white blossoms turned an eye
To your unending beauty sweet,
As if the time would not just fly;
In such memories may I meet
And share my love that was so strong,
Glad each other again to greet:
Although I know it won’t last long,
While it does, I’ll burst forth in song.
II
Your smell so floral and heady,
Its deep pungent odor grips me:
I wax nostalgic already
To times when she was young and free,
And though some cares did burden us,
I thought like this we’d always be.
Your bouquet brings bees—buzz and fuss—
Whether potted or in the ground,
Yet their presence brings not a cuss,
For while they scare us with their sound,
They lack the will to cause a sting,
And simply flitter all around:
O gardenia, of thee I sing,
So thankful for the joys you bring.
III
You, gardenia, so true and bright,
With leaves and stems of such dark green
And blossoms of the purest white,
You’re the prettiest bloom I’ve seen
Though others thrive this time of year
Your meaning they could never glean,
For while I see you, some small tear
Aims to make its way down my cheek;
My thoughts of her too deep I fear,
Past joys I strive and strain to seek—
In you, gardenia, I see joy
As some release, week after week:
You are beautiful while not coy
And bring a sweetness not too cloy.
IV
O gardenia, please stop the time,
Your flowers dropping, depressing,
Few buds remain, color of lime,
The hours fleeting, so distressing,
What blooms linger turn dark and brown,
Your delightful form undressing
As if discarding a bright gown,
Littering the soil beneath you
And bringing my happy mood down.
O let’s go back in time anew
To when you first opened your bloom;
My spirit with your life renew
And lead me not to dark and doom
But let me feel her love—kaboom.
V
Amazing how a simple plant
Brings such emotion to the fore,
Imagine it I almost can’t
Except I’ve felt it to my core;
Its effect has moved me so deep
I’ve yearned again for days of yore
When once her love did truly seep
Into the recess of my heart
Those memories I’ll always keep.
It’s a sad truth we all must part,
Leave behind those for whom we care
It leaves a taste too sharp and tart: