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The Calamity that is Poetry

     Rank strangers access
       my deepest secrets

     leaking out onto the page
       past guard-rails unattended

     reaching into my soul

fearhorrorpoetryfree verse

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Regina Elliott

September 27, 2025 at 9:55 AM

Hi Gershon, that is the price of being a poet/writer. I’ve put a few “out there” that can be considered hot button subjects. Shabbat Shalom to you and your family. ~

Gershon Wolf

September 27, 2025 at 8:31 PM

Yeah. Gotta be careful, especially these days.

sara Etgen-Baker

September 26, 2025 at 5:09 PM

enjoyed the imagery and symbolism in your poem, Gershon. especially liked 'guardrails unattended'....sometimes poets/writers live in isolation hoping someone 'gets them.' Well done, sir

Jeanette Swan

September 26, 2025 at 6:13 AM

If a tree falls in the forest, does anybody hear the forest fall? A writer-reader says, yes, totally agree about the self-revelations of writing, but can't help but write, and without a reader the soul is talking to itself - not a bad thing, but I do like to write and share... Don't know why - perhaps because the thought chimes with someone else. J :)

Gershon Wolf

September 27, 2025 at 8:35 PM

Not sure, but I often the rocks in my head collide.