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Beyond the Textbook

Laurie Lupold

One of my most favorite forms of writing is poetry. The way it captures you and develops your thought in just a short time offers a gift we can treasure. It can caress our hearts with such a warmth of emotion that the world becomes an enlightened place. At times it can pull at our heartstrings and leave us with tears streaming down our faces.

In this column I would like to discuss poetry as therapy. Oftentimes our minds become boggled with emotion. With the activity of our world today it seems we don't have time to reflect, develop and welcome what our minds are going through. As writers it is important for us to be able to clear our minds and concentrate on a single task at hand.

Some of us are more poetic, others short story enthusiast, or some may be novelists. Whatever the particular form or style, we often find ourselves frustrated in our attempts to create.

Not only does poetic therapy offer us a resource for encouraging these tasks but it allows us to creatively vent those things which are troubling our minds. Many artists turn to poetry as a means of exploring issues which are painful and/or deeply buried. This type of developmental therapy unlocks the doors to creativity. It sustains the seasoned writer through rejection and disappointment and allows the serious writer not to lose touch with his/her innermost being.

Poetry puts us in touch with ourselves. Allows us to depress our minds while offering our hearts without forming a story of how we got there. Some of our best music began as poetry, inspired by some sort of impression on one's life. Though you may never share what you create in these therapeutic times, what you will gain from this resource will be valued infinitely.

Stormy Weather
by Laurie Lupold

Wind whirls,
causing confusion;
my heart disrupts,
in disillusion.

Pieces of debris,
fall all around;
my life gives way,
without a sound.

Thunder rocks,
invisible rage;
emotion builds,
filling the stage.

Lightning strikes,
threatening the night;
tension builds,
my will to fight.

Events combine,
the scene explodes;
defense screams out,
My pain unloads.

Showers fill,
the empty space;
tears baptize,
my incensed face.

The rains cleanse,
and refresh the earth;
teardrops restore,
my pride, my worth.