My last blog concerning Sylvia Plath prompted me to remind myself of her style of poetry which along with others she was described as a confessional poetry and there is a genre now so known.Poetry conceived from those dark p!aces we sometimes enter in some way or another.
It set me musing on how we creative sensitive types confront such issues and put them into words.
Some here may know such an event happened to me in recent times and although, before then I was fairly open in my writings (well as much as male gender maybe).
Here is one I wrote in the middle thereof
WHIRLPOOLS OF THE MiND
Cycles of life..churn..revolve,dissolve..
resurface..mix in restless sleep.
Deep from the chasms of the
unconscious, the froths of
yesterday's concerns as flotsam
become a jetsam dream..to
scatter up on the beach of
our tomorrow..as hazy recollections.
Forlorn..half-remembered..such
detritus of our persona slowly erodes
shrinking in the light of day.
Put into proportion such giants become
dwarf like..distant litter on our
horizon..to fade away forever upon
the tide of each new dawn's..reality.
Another of mine entitled 'CRISIS' describes my situation at my lowest point in this journey which truth to tell has affected me both as a poet and a person.
Are you now a confessional poet following some event in your life ,like myself and the Plath era of poets?
UPDATE
Here is a link to an interesting article suggesting this 'genre' was a ground breaking event in English language poetry.
https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/brief-guide-confessional-poetry