to reap
upon my shyness, winter’s bust
sails the moon-eye
with an apparition garden,
I gather by the inglenook;
I’m a hermit,
I billow poetries dark, in the first tree
that would seem to think
I am all these things,
but
truly, I’m not.
© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a quadrille that includes the word, inglenook.
This is more of me expressing something a little personal. Being as I write dark poetry, some assumptions throughout this past year have been made that include my mental health or mental state. I thank anyone who has expressed their concerns to me germane to that, but it saddens me greatly. This is just a poem that lets me blow off some steam, since I never really write about myself anyway.
Thank you for reading and letting me ramble. I appreciate it.
Categories: Prose
Lucy, I love your poem. And the title is killer!
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Thank you, Linda!
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‘I billow poetries dark’ there’s something Miltonian about this, Lucy – a ‘darkness visible.’ I also love the message about how you are not what you seem to be. None of us are, when you look deep enough.
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Thank you so, so much Ingrid! We all put on different sides to the world.
I think the main problem here is that people can have a bit of difficulty separating the poet from the person. 🙂
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Yes, and the fact from the fiction…
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I love this.. and yes I know well the difference between what you write and what you are… happened to me many times.
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Thank you so much, Bjorn!
I think this is way too common for writers, especially poets to encounter those types of comments. There’s so many nuances alone to a person, how can we begin to unravel them only by what they write? I let it get to me a bit admittedly, but I am so glad for this lovely community of writers on WordPress and dVerse for lifting me up and supporting me either way. You guys are the best. ❤ ❤
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Fartfist is a fan of any fan of his….
You get the 5 star for your capabilities as a writer, combined with the courage to do so openly.
You are not crazy, you are inquisitive. Your mental heath is something that will always be in question, and should be. That itself is the sign of life within you.
Bravo!
~FF
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Aww, thank you FF.
“You are not crazy, you are inquisitive. Your mental heath is something that will always be in question, and should be. That itself is the sign of life within you.”
I have never thought of it that way! That is such an interesting perspective, it makes me feel better about this. Thank you so, so much!
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I connect so much with your thoughts at the end of this piece! When we poets write in the first person, many people assume we are writing about ourselves rather than giving a poem a personality. When I write using words like ‘grandmother’ and ‘sister’, family chancing upon my works often reach out wondering why they do not recognize themselves in my words . . .
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Oh, I am so happy to hear that it connected with you.
And that is so true! Whenever I write in first person, it’s like I’m creating a character with a story arc. I may put a little bit of me in the character, but it’s still different; it’s someone else that I create that I hope can help others who resonate with what the poem is about.
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I do love, I billow poetries dark. Perfect!
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Thank you!
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This is TRULY great! And, yeah, some people have good intentions, but make assumptions about ones state. While it is ok to express those concerns, it’s always best to ask about their writing style first.
Awesome poem 😎
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Very true! Thank you so very much! 🙂
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‘I billow poetries dark’ is a great image. The ‘first tree’ makes me think of Yggdrasil which opens up new interpretations.
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Thank you, Jane. 🙂
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Lucy–you’ve got some ‘splaining to do: not. There is a dusky treasure of experiences and insights within the dark side of our souls and our our language. Your poetry fascinates me. It’s never morbid, and though you may be a bit shy, your first person poetics always spin a Poe/Kafka adventure in dark words. I look forward to reading your tales of darkness, but I don’t worry about you. You are a dark rose, a black orchid, opening slowly, not yet fully blossomed.
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Ah, thank you Ricky–I mean, Glenn! 😉
I really appreciate your kind, honest, and supportive feedback. Wow, I just don’t know what to say. I thank you so very much! ❤
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Very clever to bookend the title and ending with the same phrase. A lovely frame for a tantalising poem.
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Thank you, Misky!
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Writing is a but a part of the person not the whole.
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Indeed!
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This is incredibly dark and enticing, Lucy! I love; “I billow poetries dark, in the first tree that would seem to think I am all these things.” swoon 💝💝
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Aww, thank you so much Sanaa.
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Glenn says it well, guilty as charged, sorry!
Having watched you on the video I can see you are a very shy sensitive soul … and I know your darkness resonates with most 🙂 Personally I worked for years with darkness which is why I prefer to spread the light .. but life has both
So please feel free to delete any comments as you wish, it’s your blog!
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There is no need to apologize, Kate. As said, I’ve been dealing with other comments this past year that bothered me.
While it is my site, I do not wish or even want to delete any comments that just don’t need to be deleted. You’re good. No hard feelings, friend. 🙂
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grateful you understand but you gave me valuable insight .. because that was my ‘work’ for years I still suspect and ask direct! Probably time I dropped it … hugs
and you’re a gifted poet so hold your head high and let go of shyness, let it fly!
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Pay them no mind. Poets are messengers. We turn life into art. There is darkness in this life. You are the voice to express it and you do so in a way nobody else can. That’s genius.
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Thank you so very much. That’s very kind of you to say! ❤ ❤
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Lucy, this is a beautifully composed poem, full of meaning and emotion. It is difficult separating the ‘write’ from the ‘writer’ … so much of what we write reflects us down to our very core.
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Thank you so much, Helen, and that is very true!
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It’s hard to separate the poem from the poet at times, but it isn’t my job to sort it out. If I thought someone was a danger to themselves or others I might ask them just to show concern and take next steps if necessary, but other than that I take it at face value. I also go dark to vent troublesome stuff and it works great for that purpose. I’m glad you got your feelings out about the situation through your poem today, Lucy.
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Exactly, I agree with you so very much! If it’s overt, I think it’s great to show concern; but at face value, it can easily just be a poem where the feelings or sentiments expressed are exaggerated a bit or it can be a whole bundle of emotions vented out. Thank you as well for the kind words. ❤ ❤
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I too love the title and how you delve into the question, if your dark billowings in inglenooks make you dark, and the answer, “truly, I’m not.” We all have our preferences of what we like to write and I find your poems more analytical than dark, more cerebral. Your words examine life and life is often dark, so there it is. I can understand your need to set the record straight though. We want our art seen independent of our personal lives. 💖
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Aww, thank you Tricia. Analytical. I like that! I love to question the world and the craziness, so that may be true. 😊 And that’s very true, how most of us want to separate our personal lives and art.
Thank you again for your kindness and support. ❤ ❤ It’s much appreciated. I also loved how you interpreted the piece!
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You’re very welcome! ❤ My critiques are always worth what you pay for them, priceless, haha!
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Blowing off steam very well done, Lucy!
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Aww, thank you!
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My shyness is comfortable in the inglenook, a perfect place to hide away, especially in the winter months, Lucy. I love ‘I’m a hermit, I billow poetries dark’. And I agree about the book-ending. 🙂
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Thank you so much, Kim!
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“billow” – this is such a terrific use of this word!
-David
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Thank you, David! 🙂
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Ah Lucy — the poets ability to embody many to share a multitude of visions. Love the beauty and the honesty here Lucy.
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Thank you so much, Rob.
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Inglenook is a fun word! As is billow. I had fun reading this poem 🙂
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Thank you so much!
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👏🏼 Bravo here!
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Thank you so much!
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I appreciate this poem and your personal note, Lucy! It must mean you’re a convincing writer when people assume its autobiographical.
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Aww, thank you Lynn! ❤ ❤
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It feels like you’re trying to express something loudly, but there’s no one there…everything’s so empty 😑
Thank you for sharing!! Much love ❤️❤️
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I love that interpretation, Mara. 😀
Thank you so much for reading. Much love back and happy holidays. ❤ ❤
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Were you a traveler passing through ir someone misunderstood? I so want to know! I just loved this Lucy! Your poetry is so intriguing. ☺️💕
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More that it was a misunderstanding. 🙂 Thank you, Christine. You’re always so kind and encouraging. ❤ ❤
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It’s amusing how expression plagues mental health professionals, much as the poets’ push reality’s perceived keystrokes of rationality. Such lovely work. Never question yourself, only the system who has no true concept of openness.
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Thank you so much. 🙂
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Great poem! I just had a similar conversation with my gf this morning. She avoids reading my darker poetry sometimes. I tend to like the darkest stuff the most, and I don’t think it’s necessarily reflective of poor mental health. I believe it’s when traveling in the darkness, after all, that we find light.
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I share the same thoughts; I love dark poetry, and I sort of compare it to horror in a way–with the gothic subtleties alone, but as well with a different genre that doesn’t make people think it’s reflective so much of the author. Does writing horror stories always reflect someone with poor mental health? No.
So true. We can wade in the darkness, the troubles, and soon we can try to find our peace, what makes us content.
Thank you so much for your thoughts and feedback!
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Beautiful blog
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Thank you!
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So sophisticated and deep, I love it!
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Thank you!
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You’re most welcome
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