My Terrible Secret

Posted on October 24, 2014 by joey

Shhh..I’ll tell you a secret, my terrible secret, but you can’t tell anyone.

We all have secrets, right?

My best secret is that things happen and I don’t blog about them.
But my terrible secret is truly terrible.
Are you sitting down?
Okay.

I write very bad poetry. I know, you’re like, “Share it! It can’t be that bad!”
I’m tellin you, it’s that bad. I know bad poetry when I read it. I did get a bachelor’s in English, you know. And even if I hadn’t, I’ve still read plenty of good poetry in my life. I can assure you, when I die and people discover bits of poetry tucked here and there, it will not be an Emily Dickinson experience for them. Oh, someone might save one or two, but they’re perfectly suited for recycling.

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Badness aside, I don’t share my poetry because my poetry emerges from pain.

I blog with humor, because this blog is about me and my neurotic perspective. Or are my neuroses writing the blog? At any rate, a good sense of humor is essential to living well. Training your inner voice to focus on gratitude and laughter is an important skill in learning to be happy. However, just like this blog, optimism is an effort. I am fiercely controlling what I type, just like I control my mindset.

I put humor in my fiction, too, because art imitates life, or not as much as life imitates art, because maybe you love Oscar Wilde more than tired cliches..but the point being, fiction writing isn’t much good if it doesn’t include a little bit of all that makes up life.

But my fiction humor runs a bit dark.

My poetry is more than a bit dark. I’m perhaps channeling it from the dark side of the moon. My natural melancholy is fuel for fretting and scribbling, but the blogging is much more controlled.

I’m telling you this terrible secret because I had a dialogue about it with another blogger the other day. The answer?
Depends on what I’m writing.

Expression is the main reason. Like most writers, I need to write to get the words out of my head.

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I write this blog as a means to communicate the way anxiety is a constant backdrop in the setting that is my life. I’ve gathered piles of coping mechanisms, I’ve completed my homework lessons, and there’s no point in hoarding all the study aids. I hope I help other people understand that they’re not alone, and that their anxiety isn’t imaginary. I hope I’m providing insight. I hope people come to read a different experience, and ultimately learn the importance of laughter and gratitude. I started this blog as a rebellion against renewing my teaching license and pursuing writing instead. I maintain it because it’s good for my mental health and it serves as somewhat of a diary.
I have no idea why people actually read my blog.
I reckon it’s none of my business.

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I write love notes to spill my heart’s content.

I write thank-you notes with the intent of conveying how much I value generosity.

I write arguments to win.

I write ads to sell.

I write lists to remember and to feel accomplished.

I write compliments and insults because I mean them.

I write tweets out of the narcissistic need to be adored. Apparently.

I write status updates to keep my circle informed.

I write texts because we’re out of butter.

I write fiction to entertain.

I write dialogue to remember it.

I write out forgiveness to let go.

I write poetry because no matter how hard I work to suppress pain, it oozes out here and there.

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To me, poets are the bravest writers, and the good ones are the best.

Do you secretly scribble out bad poetry? Why do you write?

About joey

Neurotic Bitch, Mother, Wife, Writer, Word Whore, Foodie and General Go-To-Girl
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41 Responses to My Terrible Secret

  1. coldhandboyack says:
    October 24, 2014 at 1:55 PM

    I don’t write poetry, and don’t particularly enjoy reading most of it. I follow many poets and find them to be very creative. There is an inspiration for me, but probably not what they intended.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dan Antion says:
    October 24, 2014 at 1:57 PM

    Absolutely, why I read your blog is none of your business. OK, it’s your day for secrets, not mine. I read this blog because I always enjoy it. I do agree with you about poetry and poets. Poets make every word count.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. LindaGHill says:
    October 24, 2014 at 2:22 PM

    I write bad, not-so-secret poetry on my fiction blog. Seriously, I always think my poetry is bad. But then someone like you comes along with a post that states both that you have a bachelor’s in English AND you write compliments because you mean them, and then I remember that you’ve liked one or two of my poems and I feel better. Thank you for this. 🙂
    I read your blog because I enjoy the way you relate your experiences and I relate to many of them. AND because I’m not neurotic so I’m studying you. Come closer to my microscope…
    Now that you’re completely creeped out, I’m going to conclude this novel of a comment by saying that you’ve really, seriously made me think about why I write. I don’t think I have words that need to come out – I’ve been concocting stories in my head since I was a child, and for many years that’s where they stayed. They were quite happy there. Perhaps the difference is that I’m getting older, and I need to write them down so I don’t forget them…

    Liked by 2 people

    • joeyfullystated says:
      October 24, 2014 at 2:41 PM

      You may be right about writing your stories down before you begin to forget them.
      I willingly submit to your microscope. Mind the hair, will ya?
      I have enjoyed several of your poems. There was an erotic one I just loved, can’t remember it now…I can remember reading it to people and sharing it.
      And I remember another one with something about the perfume of women drowning the noise — I liked that whole poem so much, because I identified with that feeling of crowded holiday dinners, feeling tired of people and out of place. I have no idea if that was your intent, but I loved it.

      Like

  4. orbthefirst says:
    October 24, 2014 at 2:46 PM

    I cant write poetry either. What I can write, however, are words put together to form feelings, or sensations. I do this because I need them out of my head.
    There are many reasons why I do so. Like, sometimes its to let go, others..its a kind of mental suicide, and others..because it comes out better if I write it down. I write because it makes me crazy, because it makes my “crazy” more human..at least to me.
    Not that any of that makes any sense. Or maybe it does and I just dont see it.

    As to why I read you? Youre intelligent & funny, and you write well. I enjoy reading you.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. hollie says:
    October 24, 2014 at 2:59 PM

    I don’t write poetry, I’d be terrible at it. I use humor to avoid writing the painful stuff, although I think I should make more of an effort to get that stuff out of my head and onto some paper. Here’s a little poem for you today…roses are red, wine is also red, poems are hard, wine. :). This was a lovely post about all the reasons we write and I do think your blog is providing excellent insight in terms of anxiety. I find your blog refreshing and real, two qualities I value in other peoples’ writing.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Michael33 says:
    October 24, 2014 at 3:04 PM

    I found my way to your blog by clicking on your gravatar from a comment on another site. I’m really glad that for some unknown reason I came here. I’ve had a terrific time wandering around and reading. Hope you don’t mind if I hang around awhile. You do know of course, that if we poets didn’t write some bad poetry sometimes, we’d never have any fun at all. Some of my worst poetry were actually the ones most fun to write. Thanks for sharing with us and I’ll look forward to absorbing more of this delightful information…
    Michael

    Like

  7. eclecticoddsnsods says:
    October 24, 2014 at 3:04 PM

    congrats on the 2012 nano thingy which I just spotted on your blog and read about recently 🙂 I would love to see some of your poetry. I write bad poetry too, it just comes to me but not very often LOL, prob just as well, the last one was about a jack the ripper character slicing the throats of less than virtuous women, ooer I mean seriously, where did the heck that come from? I mean, I didn’t blog it, didn’t want my followers who see me as fun loving think I am really an axe wheilding murderer lol x

    Liked by 1 person

  8. himnmeinbed says:
    October 24, 2014 at 3:21 PM

    i started writing poetry as a kid and even now when people say it is good i still think they are just being nice. i think it is in our nature to want praise but are to hard on ourselves to truly accept it.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. himnmeinbed says:
    October 24, 2014 at 3:21 PM

    too*** ahhh my inner grammar nazi is silently stabbing me

    Like

  10. JunkChuck says:
    October 24, 2014 at 4:09 PM

    There is no bad poetry. Only bad poetry readers. Do I mean that? No, but it would be nice to think so, right? I’m all about blaming the other guy–’cause I’m, you guessed it: misunderstood.

    Like

  11. suzjones says:
    October 24, 2014 at 5:40 PM

    My last poem was about gorillas wearing bikinis. 😛
    I have used poetry to tell a story but sometimes my poems (there’s a couple on my blog) are just random thoughts on a page. Probably not even good poems but they work for me. I think writing poetry during the dark times is a great exercise. Heck I think some of my best writing comes from the times that my mind is tortured! But we don’t want to have our minds tortured all the time and so we resort to humour. That works for me and I guess it works for you as well.
    You blog for me and I blog for you! I reckon that works right?

    Liked by 1 person

  12. caramc says:
    October 24, 2014 at 8:24 PM

    I’m beginning to wonder if we may somehow be related. Everything you said reminds me of me! So, I guess the answers are yes, I write bad poetry and I write for many different reasons, but mainly because I have to stay sane somehow or at least communicate my brand of crazy to the world in hopes that someone will have that “me too” moment.

    Liked by 1 person

    • joeyfullystated says:
      October 25, 2014 at 11:17 AM

      You know, I had never thought about that “me too” moment of identification from a writer’s viewpoint, only that I love when it happens to me as a reader. Look at that, you just gave me a “me too” moment.

      Liked by 1 person

  13. starkravingmags says:
    October 25, 2014 at 3:30 AM

    same same 🙂 Somewhere in a buried box lies numerous poems full of the sad and the angst. But somewhere along the way I switched to sad and angsty music….paired with a fine red wine ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Jewels says:
    October 25, 2014 at 8:56 AM

    I’m always, ALWAYS insecure of any snippets of poetry I share on my blog because its usually so simplistic, and I don’t follow any of the “rules.” Heck, I don’t even know the rules! 😉
    I think you should share yours, if you ever feel so inclined. Maybe you could create a separate blog for it, since you use this one for other things. Some people may like it and relate to it, and some may not. The only poetry I don’t like is the stuff I have to work too hard to figure out wtf they’re saying, unless I’m in the mood to decipher secret codes, and if it sounds forced or inauthentic (like they’re trying too hard) that turns me off too. But to each their own, right?
    I know what you mean about “I write poetry because no matter how hard I work to suppress pain, it oozes out here and there.” I have pages and pages and pages and PAGES of illegible ramblings and rantings in my private journals that I don’t share with anyone. That’s the way I try to get out all the yucky stuff, so I hopefully end up with something halfway valuable to share with others. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    • joeyfullystated says:
      October 25, 2014 at 11:14 AM

      Thank you for commenting, Jewels. I’m very fond of your words, your photos, your metaphors. I love the way you said “get out all the yucky stuff out.”
      I’ve begun to suspect we all have stories, poems, or ramblings hidden away somewhere.

      Liked by 1 person

  15. cardamone5 says:
    October 25, 2014 at 9:33 AM

    I thought my poetry was pretty good, until my supportive husband, then boyfriend, told me it was too sappy. He also ruined my dreams of becoming a famous back-up singer when he told me my voice, which I honestly thought and had been told by others was good, sucked. Well, I love and respect my husband so I gave up my back-up singer/poet laureate dreams, but occasionally I belt it out in voice and on the page because, like you say, the emotions need expression, and I find there are no better conduits than song and poetry.

    My daughter is tone-deaf as a stone. One night, we were listening to her sing Amy Winehouse (who died of too much wine, my daughter tells me.) She was so bad, but sang so enthusiastically, that we giggled and smiled at our caterwauling daughter. My husband turned to me and said: “that’s what you sound like.” I slugged him.

    Fondly,
    Elizabeth

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Britt Skrabanek says:
    October 25, 2014 at 8:54 PM

    I’m with you on the poetry thing. That’s where I let my sadness rip, so I don’t usually share it. I must admit I was more into poetry when I was younger, because I had more angst inside. It’s rare when I feel that these days. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  17. Jadi Campbell says:
    October 26, 2014 at 4:40 AM

    “I have no idea why people actually read my blog.” I read you because this blog is great. It’s as simple as that. And as complex. (And for the record: Like you, I too find poetry to be the hardest form of creative writing…)

    Liked by 1 person

  18. HappyApathy says:
    October 26, 2014 at 9:38 AM

    Not only did I write bad poetry, I went on stages and recited it into microphones in front of others who were like me.

    I have since recovered.

    Like

  19. Phil Taylor says:
    October 26, 2014 at 4:47 PM

    I loved this one. I think it tells us more about what’s in your head and heart more than anything else you write.

    Liked by 1 person

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