The persistent poet

A few days ago I was sitting at my laptop trying to finish some artwork in progress. I felt distracted, restless, slightly bored and knew I was forcing myself in the wrong direction for that moment. I gave up and ended up pacing around in an all too familiar void.

What happened next was strange. I seem to have a mysterious persistent poet hiding somewhere inside me and it started poking snippets of poetry in to my consciousness. I have no idea where this comes from. I’ve had creative thoughts and ambitions in art, music, photography and some forms of writing but never poetry. If you’ve been reading my ramblings for a while you may remember my sweary ditty An ode to sparkling water. This is something I’ve never taken seriously though.

In my current spirit of surrender I decided to go with it. I plonked down on the sofa with a pot of coffee and a cheap sketchbook and pencil and then poetry just poured out of me for the next 3 hours along with scribbled ‘shorthand’ versions of accompanying illustrations. I wrote whole poems, small sections and rough ideas too – all on the subject of drinking and recovery. Huh?!

Here’s a sample:

Hangover Grey

The sun shines bright, what a beautiful day

But under the duvet your world is grey

Wake up! Let’s go!

You can’t! You know

The nauseas seeps and sadness creeps

You’re here again, you said you wouldn’t

Just one glass! But then you couldn’t

It’s every time, why can’t you stop?

It’s no holds barred once that cork pops

Anxiety grips your pounding chest

What happened last night? Was I a mess?

Your clammy head can’t face the dread

You burrow deeper into bed

It’s the weekend friend, let’s go and play

Ugh! Not today

Please go away

I know bugger all about poetry but I quite like it. Maybe I have the start of a new sober hobby or project? When the urge pops up I won’t fight it, I’ll run with it and see what happens.

Has anybody else had something like this pop up unexpectedly in early sobriety? It’s very odd.

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