Index Card Poems

I wish I could prune my art to this degree

I’ve been a regular participant of Poetry Forge's workshops, specifically Poetry as Consolation and the 21 day Poetry Challenge (no longer offered).

Every time I’ve attended one of the workshops I write something that surprises me. Though I’m not a knowledgeable reader of poetry and the poets I favour are either extremely dark and usually end up killing themselves or I turn obsessively towards Haiku.

I’m intrigued by these polar opposites: on one hand, a poem by Alejandra Pizarnik feels true to my soul: profoundly depressive, digging the pits of despair through beauty and words giving me a reason to think I’m not a weirdo. I read her when Ihave difficulty getting through the day. How anyone can remain optimistic is beyond me.

But Haiku is like a happy pill. It makes me surface from Pizarnik’s or Sexton’s inferno to reality. The reality of something solid, happening in nature. A physicial object that is just beautiful because it exists and has no agenda.

I wish my art was like the poems …