May 19, 2020

Cat’s Meow: Mary Oliver Poems

angelleconant Cat's Meow, How Different The World Might Be, Poetry, Words mary oliver, poems, poetry 0 Comments

One of my dear friends recently wrote me a letter (for you younguns, that’s a really long text on paper) and she included with it a lovely poem by Mary Oliver:

The Uses of Sorrow
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.

Unbeknownst to my friend, I had had an entire afternoon of cleansing, freeing crying and this letter with this beautiful poem by one of my favorite poets arrived that evening.

I know a lot of people don’t like poetry or don’t get it. However, I think that poetry, like music, is something that’s deeply personal and sometimes it takes a while to find the style you like. I read many poems as part of my high school education and I disliked a lot of them. But every now and again, I would read one that felt as if it was speaking directly to me.

My favorite poetry is often succinct and reflects the truth of life back to me. I can garner the same lesson from a well crafted poem as I can from a well-written, multi-million dollar, two hour movie. Poems, simply put, are stories, real or imagined, that like any other art form, reflect life back to us and, oftentimes, help us to change, grow or return to that which is our deepest joy.

Poetry can be raw, sweet, clever, life-affirming or speak to the secret and not-so-secret aches that live within all of this. For some, reading poetry can be a spiritual experience – a supplement to their weekly religion or a full replacement. For others, it’s a constant wake up call and challenge to grow. And for others still, it’s a reminder of what makes life life. Poetry often leaves no place to hide and no stone unturned. In its presence, pretense and illusions fall away…and that is why I love it.

November 4, 2017

How to Kill and Revive Your Creativity

angelleconant Art, Poetry, Words art, creativity, follow your heart, joy, poems, poetry, trust yourself 0 Comments

10 EASY STEPS TO KILL YOUR CREATIVITY
1.Be so afraid to make a mistake that you never begin.
2.Compare your work to the works of others, especially the most successful ones.
3.Hold yourself and your work to impossible standards of perfection.
4.Try to please and not offend anyone with your work.
5.Doubt yourself at every step and at every choice.
6.Quit because it’s crap anyway.
7.Don’t listen to yourself; listen to everyone else, especially those that discourage you.
8.Be motivated by money, fame, and fear.
9.Neglect your life, relationships, other interests and overall well-being to focus on this one thing.
10.Ignore your heart.

10 EASY STEPS TO REVIVE YOUR CREATIVITY
1.Just begin.
2.Stop comparing yourself and your work to others. You and your creations are original and, therefore, beyond comparison.
3.Embrace your mistakes. Embrace imperfection.
4.Not everyone will like your work and that’s okay. Trust that it will reach those that need it.
5.Trust yourself. Listen to that wise little voice inside of you. The more you listen, the louder it gets.
6.Keep going. You’re in the muck of it now. It might not be pretty but don’t give up. Keep going.
7.Surround yourself with a support system of believers and cheerleaders. But, more importantly, listen to and believe in yourself.
8.Be motivated by love and hope and joy and fun.
9.Take care of your life, your relationships and yourself. Explore other interests as well.
10.Above all, listen to your heart.

May 15, 2017

A Poem for My Mother

angelleconant Parenting, Poetry, Words compassion, family, love, mom, mother, mother's day, motherhood, parenting, poems, poetry 2 Comments

I wrote this poem for my phenomenal mother.

ON MOTHER’S DAY
If my mother was a heart
she’d be curvy and full
and soft ‘round the edges

She would be oozing love
(sometimes a little too much)
and she’d smell of earth & roses

She’d be the deep red of knowing:
passion, love, loss, pain,
the interconnectedness of all things

She’d have cuts and scars and nicks
(perhaps that’s why she oozes so)
And she’d have healed, time & time again

She’d beat in time to the Universe
ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum,
Steady and loud and unafraid.

March 21, 2016

A Poem for the Sleepy

angelleconant Parenting, Poetry, Words book, maternity, poems, poetry, pregnancy, sleep 0 Comments

Happy World Poetry Day! Below is a poem I wrote when I was pregnant with my daughter and sleepy ALL THE TIME. I’m thinking about including it in my upcoming book of pregnancy poems – what do you think? Enjoy!

I WANT YOU

I want you.
I want you now.
I need you.
I need you now.
Why can’t we be together now?

All I think about is you.
All I want is you.
All I want to think about is you.
All I can think about is you.
You are a need, a drug.
I cannot live without you.

Why can’t we be together now?
Duty.
Responsibility.
Common Decency.
These are my obstacles.
They cannot be overcome.
Not until I am at home
And I lay down on my silk pillow
Surrounded by a mountain of fluff
And we can be together again.
We will be together again, soon.
I am coming soon, my Sleep.