cathartic symbolism and a poem

This weekend I went through all my old cassette tapes and found several therapy sessions I had recorded with ‘clients’ (was certified as a therapist but never licensed, so don’t worry). It was interesting to listen to my self try to help someone else through their struggles. I wonder if I will ever go back to the field of psychology. Regardless, it felt good to destroy them. Not sure why: it felt like a final ditch effort to leaving that part of myself behind. While not possible to do so, it is symbolic. And the symbolism feels great.

I’ve started writing poems. My goal is to write one every day (I’m not going to fill up this silly blog, don’t worry). Most of them aren’t very good, but I don’t care. I’s nice to get back to the sound of words…and the rhythm of words. Very cathartic. Anyway, here’s the one for today. Next one I post will be a positive one. This one is a bit dark:

“Limp”
The loss of sexuality at 33 and a half
Enough to make a boy weep and a grown man laugh
Juxtaposed emotions on a half-bent truth
Histrionic defenses hiding what you knew
Blame it on your circumstance
Blame it on the stress
Blame it on your lazy eye
Or the lack of rest
Blame it on the ugly age
Blame it on your luck
Blame it all on medications
For the lack of fuck
But end the end there is no end
Of your lack of luster
So sing a dirge of recompense
With all that you can muster.