I know a place.

Today’s Poetic Asides prompt is to write a “place” poem.  I decided to be literal about it an choose a physical place, but I also decided to choose a place that would push me to start thinking again about a writing project I set aside last summer and haven’t made time to go back to.  I have this annoying habit of setting limiting and strict rules for myself for no good reason.  I mean, it’s a pretty good bet that, no matter what idea I come up with, there will be some external voice telling me I can’t do it or it’s a bad idea or that someone else has already done it and I can’t do it as well as that person so I may as well quit.  Or some such.  So if those naysayers are already out there, and are all ready to take me down a few notches, why do I use up my valuable energy doing their work for them?  Feh.

Last summer, a propos of nothing, I began writing a memoir.  Not Adventures. That was already under way.  No, this was a more traditional, prose-only memoir.  And I had a LOT to say … but then I stopped myself because, as my internal censor pointed out, “You can’t write two memoirs at once, and you’re already working on the comic.”  Who says?!  Right, but I listened to myself last year and put the memoir aside.  Tonight’s poem, though it is hardly a return to the writing of the memoir, it is at the very least a shot across my internal censor’s bow, a warning to let her know she needs to pipe down and let me do my work.

I Know a Place

A weight,
hidden, dense.
All my secrets
kept.               Long afternoons,
bike rides.
Books read, hills
climbed. My bully / 
my friend at my side.
Jean —
stronger, hard —
she knew things I
avoided knowing.

twists around
mine. But it’s time
to let myself go, leave
Walk away
from her story
learn  to tell my own.

is your
shaded purple
and grey, same as mine?


Please consider donating to my indiegogo campaign to support my participation in the VONA Voices graphic novel workshop this summer.  “Support” can be as simple and cost-free as sending the Indiegogo link out to your friends and telling them why they might want to help me get to VONA.  Any and all help is appreciated.  In the first week, I’ve received almost 40% of my goal amount! I am encouraged and humbled by everyone’s generosity.  Thank you all!


An Arun is a 15-line poem with the syllable count 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x.  It may be a new thing in the world, made up by me last year.  “Arun” means “five” in Yoruba.


One thought on “I know a place.

  1. “So if those naysayers are already out there, and are all ready to take me down a few notches, why do I use up my valuable energy doing their work for them? Feh.”

    Ah! Ahhh!


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