My Bizarre Return to Poetry

From a young age I’ve enjoyed various forms of writing. It’s an area of commonality between my mother and me. Growing up, Mama used to write letters to us three girls—addressed to Tammy, Angie, and Karen. I still have a couple of them. These were not letters outlining daily expectations or weekly chores. Rather, they were heartfelt accountings of where she stood as our mother, the pride she took in that role-- her love for us. Sometimes they even included statements acknowledging her personal shortcomings and/or why she had taken this action or that. Mama also wrote creatively from time to time—poetry and short stories. My older sister, Tammy, kept a journal from a young age. She, too, is a writer—in fact, the most gifted of us all. She had written volumes of work before we were grown, and since she never parts with anything, I would wager that she is sitting on enough excellent writing to constitute several books at this stage. As for my younger sister, she and I, to this very day fondly remember and, from time to time, recite one of her poems that she wrote to me in my autograph book when she was in the second or third grade.

I wasn’t much for keeping a journal growing up—mainly because, while my desire and ability to write comes from my mother, my strong desire for privacy which is prevalent throughout my dad’s family superseded any inclination to journal given that Mama was…well, nosey… when it came to her kids. It was more or less a fear-driven sort of nosiness. As a single mother working multiple jobs throughout my childhood, Mama was compelled to know everything about her kids for their protection.  This was easier to do with my sisters than with me because I value my privacy—particularly around my feelings, and to me, journaling is a way to release feelings as opposed to documenting the weather and such.  I gravitated toward creative writing from about age 14. I still have a good bit of the poetry, songs, and stories written during my teenage years.

During my sophomore year of high school I transferred from my county school to the city school where I could focus more on improving my writing through an extensive writing curriculum offered there. It was indeed a fantastic learning experience for me that boosted both my quantity and quality in various writing forms—everything from essays, technical, and journalistic writing to all creative genres, and, of course, research and theme papers.  Writing, like most skills, requires continued practice to maintain proficiency and to support growth. For over a decade, during my 20’s and into my early 30’s, I got away from all forms other than business letters, memos, marketing pieces, and college course-related themes, essays, and articles. Then during my pregnancy and throughout my daughter’s first 18 months I kept a journal of both my pregnancy and Abigail’s growth and development. Returning to the workplace, I reverted to strictly need-based writing for over a decade until May 31, 2011 when I returned to journaling.  I include many different thoughts in my journal. It’s where I note my goals, plans, feelings, and completed actions toward my intentions.  I read and re-read my journal entries often to assess my progress.  On July 28, 2011 I write, “I want to blog.” 

Blogging was and continues to be a means of my contemplating, reflecting, observing, gaining understanding, connecting my thoughts to my feelings, and honing my writing skills. In a twist of what can only be deemed ultra-bizarre, about eight months after I began to blog for my own personal benefit and without any thought of anyone reading the blog, I received a comment on a recipe from a person bearing the name of a man that I had not seen or heard from in 34 years. I knew the name, Curtis Dunlap, immediately.  I could not be sure this was the same person that I had known over 3 decades back—not without a word-association game that the Curtis Dunlap I knew would, undoubtedly, relate to immediately, thereby; solidifying that my blogging was, indeed, the source for this unexpected, improbable  reconnection. The words:  Camaro, machete, Friday nights, Rolling Stones, guitar. Yes, believe it or not, it was him, as verified on the comment thread of my blog entry on September 26, 2011, “Supper from a Sauce Packet.” Now, to add another layer of plain odd, this was the very first of my blog posts.

Turns out Curtis Dunlap went on to lead a productive life. He raised his two sons and is raising his daughter. While he has made his living in the field of information technology in academia he has never relinquished his arts interests and abilities. He is a writer who honed his skills to become a published poet. Curtis coauthors a weekly blog that I enjoy and recommend to anyone who is into the culinary arts. His partner, Susan Nelson-Myers, is functioning at an expert level in the area of growing, managing, and preparing foods. Curtis, as a single father, is appealing strongly to the vast population looking for ways to save time and money in the kitchen while keeping the benefits of sitting down with the family for a home-cooked meal at least once a day. Their multi-facetted blog incorporates cooking recipes and tips with poetry woven into their story-telling for high-yield entertainment. You can find Curtis and Susan’s blog, The Frugal Poet, at http://www.frugalpoet.com

No one could possibly have predicted the bizarre twist of events that led me back to poetry.  In July of 2011 I re-engaged in journaling that prompted me to start blogging in September. Eight months later in May, 2012 my very first blog post pops up in Curtis Dunlap’s Google search for “shrimp recipes” compelling him to leave the comment that resulted in our becoming reacquainted after 34 years. Reconnecting with Curtis reminded me of a time when writing creatively was a passion that I routinely acted upon.  Having re-engaged in the writing process, I have found that there remains a plethora of emotions derived from my life experiences that flow effortlessly from my pen—sometimes like a still, easy lake on a hot summer day, and other times like a gushing waterfall in a hail storm. Last month I decided to submit some recently-crafted pieces to various journals. The first of my own published work can be found in the current issue of Contemporary Haibun Online at http://contemporaryhaibunonline.com/index83.html