My desire for privacy becomes my downfall when it’s time to present my work. I’ll be proud of what I made but not want to explain how it was fueled by hurt. That’s the beautiful thing about creating pictures with words, pulling emotion out, and allowing the details to blur their way into meaning. My favorite thing about poems is that you never really need to know what I mean for them to be meaningful.
Blue Hole
I’ve always had this fascination with becoming blind
I think sometimes that’s why when I walk I find
myself running my hands over every little thing
seeing what it feels like so I’ll know what it is.
What scares me the most is that if you can’t see
you never know where your hand will be.
You may find it in a hole that’s ten feet deep
that glistens dark blue and has this energy
that sweeps you up and pulls you inside
into a magical world where you can hide.
You’re away from the world, surrounded by blue
and trying desperately to get back to feeling more “you”.
Then one day you find that you can climb your way out
and you no longer need to feel fearful or doubt.
So you play in this world, surrounded by blue
with eyes that can’t see but a heart that’s finally you.
Then when it comes time, you feel a gentle buzz.
You come back to the world to join the rest of us.
I close my eyes and run my hand over a hole,
I pretend it’s blue and has that same pull.
I imagine myself getting swept far away
into a magical land full of love and play.
Your power and your magic fall hand in hand. Look to your perspective.
Madeline May I... 