Posts Tagged ‘My Descent into Madness’

“All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.”
Oscar Wilde

I consider myself a poet and I can tell you every one of my poems stem honestly from my very being. These poems are not written just for the sake of writing poetry they are written because my soul needs to bleed, and the way I am able to express myself is through the art of poetry. I have never sat down with the intent to write poetry, it just comes to me without notice. I just need to be in a position to write it down because ten minutes later it will be gone. The way it works for me is I get to the point where my mind begins to swell with so many emotions the levees of my psyche just break down and everything just rushes out. This will last for three or four months and two hundred poems later my mind is put back together and everything is back to normal. During this “normal” period I couldn’t write a poem even if I tried.

If Oscar Wilde is correct in his statement then my poems are not poems at all they are just verbal vomit. I think perhaps if I sat down and focused hard enough I could write something based off my creativity instead of my emotions. My “Dylan Thomas” books are written in poetry form, yet stem from my imagination, but I am never very serious about it. I get a story idea in my mind and anywhere from thirty minutes to eight hours; I have written another edition to this series. I can do this, but I am unable to write poetry just for the sake of writing it.

I have gone back to read my most recent two hundred poems, and I have found some real stinkers (which were pulled from the final manuscript), but for the most part I feel I have created a beautifully emotional piece which is near and dear to me because it is in essence my turmoil which is put into words. I read some of them and I get shivers because I remember how close I was to the edge and in some cases ready to jump off the cliff. My family is unable to read my first book “My Descent into Madness,” because it stirs up to many emotions, which is why I feel they haven’t picked up any of my new books. I have had reviewers tell me they actually cried to some of my poems. In my opinion if my words are able to stir that much emotion then there has to be something good about it.

I have noticed and received similar feedback that my poems are rather raw and simplistic. Perhaps because of this simplicity I am not able to create masterpieces like my idols. I would really love to take some writing classes to hone my skills. I have no idea what poetry really is, the only style I know about is haiku. I think if I learn more about poetry and its styles I may grow to write better stuff.   

I have not been able to write any “emotion” poetry since I finished my book “Trapped Within My Illness.” My brain has just completely shut down to not only writing poetry but it has also crossed into my blog, which I have always been able to write regardless of where I am in my cycle. I am going to make it a personal goal of mine to try and write a poem just to write one and see what kind of poetry I create. I think the first thing I need to do is find a subject and just go with it. I am currently in my poetry hibernation stage so maybe this is the best time to do it. I think I have a about a month or two before my brain swells to the point of busting open again, so I need to be quick on this.

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Consistently Again

Your distorted astral plane of disgust

Broken porcelain dolls of death

Tears flow from rotten stench

Feelings of equal withered dreams

The path where you burned forests

Leaves nothing but tainted soil

Wicked words tear down levees

Ushering in floods of aggression

Creating water damaged minds

Too much pain is left

Monday mornings inevitable come

Relive my life all over again

Revised edition from the book ‘My Descent into Madness”

By: Tim Lundmark

Even though I know very little about it; I just can’t help but love poetry. I love the way I am able to express my inner most emotions and capture them on paper. I am not educated on what the various forms of poetry are; I just write. When I was younger I would write a few then toss them aside, but I would share them with very few people. I would get words stuck in my head, these words were so intense and jumbled I would have to grab a piece of paper and just write them down. I never kept anything that I wrote, but I wish I would have. I also used to write short stories, but sadly those were tossed as well. In college I would get stoned out of my mind and write some kick ass papers. I some how managed to get A’s on 95% of them. I really wish I would have kept them, especially my papers which basically got me kicked out of a Crown College (A private Christian school.) I only just started keeping my writings, and thanks to the wonderful internet I am able to share them with whoever stops by.

I was first turned onto poetry when I read the book “Where The Sidewalk Ends” by Shel Silverstein.  I loved everything about this book. The way it flowed and captured my imagination was fantastic. I vowed in my young dreamer way that someday I would write poetry that would appear in a book. My other inspiration which enthralled me was the Dr. Seuss books. His books seemed so magical. I wanted to write stories that emulated that certain flow which made his books so great (I sort of modeled my children’s books off his style.) I was later influenced by Dylan Thomas, Sylvia Plath, Jim Morrison, and Edgar Allan Poe  to only name a few. These inspirations made me want to be a writer. This was always a dream I have had, but never thought anything would ever come of it. It was one of those things you store deep inside. The only time it is mentioned is in a “wouldn’t that be great” conversation.

As I grew up I still held onto this dream of becoming a writer, but focused very little on honing my craft. I cannot remember the last grade I was in where I was really present and trying. I was a space case who cared little about school; because of this I learned very little about grammar and sentence structure which still stunts me to this day. I remember in fifth grade I wrote a short story about something or other. I handed it in and I remember the teacher making a comment about how someday I would become a writer. I do not remember this teacher’s name, but her words have been the words that have always kept the fire burning inside of me. I bet you she probably doesn’t even remember making that comment; yet I carried her words with me for twenty years, and it has given me hope.

So now here I am. My first book was published by a shady publishing house so I consider that work gone, and I do not consider this as an accomplishment because technically my book wasn’t really published. I self published my next two poetry books which is great but it is not the same feeling as having an agent tell you one of the larger publishing houses has agreed to publish your work. Poetry is a dead art form and there is not much demand for it these days. I think most current poets don’t even bother trying to publish their work; they are just content with it being on their blog, or on one of the many poetry websites. Seeing your work on a computer screen is nothing like seeing your book in print.

I haven’t been able to write any kind of poetry since I published those last two books I think that was back in September. I went through a similar drought after my first book got published. I think what happens is it is emotionally draining process. I tap into the sap of my soul and pour out the love and pain in my life. When I start writing I just can’t stop it is like one right after the other it is truly a magical experience. The problem is I just don’t know how good my stuff is. I have received a handful of reviews located on my website http://thephilosophyofme.com/book-reviews.html. One of my favorite reviews which aren’t located on my website is from Simone at http://spontaneousoverflow.com/wordpress/?p=1751, Even though this review does not necessarily paint my writing in the most positive light; I still seem to like it. I would love to take several writing courses at schools to hone my skills. I think my mind is a perfect tool it is just dull at the moment.    

I wish I lived during the time when poetry was considered an art, and heralded by the people. I have been doing research and literary agents will not represent poets, there is just no market for it. This sucks because I am currently working on three other poetry books, but I am getting to the point where I say to myself why even bother putting in the time for something that will never be read? The question I have is should I continue to work on my poetry projects or just focus on something different? I am really excited about my Tao Te Ching poetry book. I think this one will be my best yet, but should I even take the time? I really think the only way I am going to find readers is through doing live readings; which I hope to do my first few in January. I figure this will be the test to really gage if my work is any good. My goal is to get a local following, and one day become the main headliner, if I am able to do this then I can take some satisfaction that my work has not fallen on deaf ears.