Pep Talk

I believe that most people who write feel they have a purpose in doing so. Whatever that purpose may be we can, at times, be doubtful of our ability to communicate. We may doubt the words we choose, our technical capabilities, the methods we use, the subjects of which we speak. Worse, we may doubt whether any of it makes any difference to a single soul other than ourselves.

To love writing, to want to communicate something, anything, and to doubt whether it has any meaning or to find ourselves in a place when the words just won’t come is an awful place to be for any writer. Over the last few weeks, or perhaps longer, I’ve experienced some of these doubts and it has come to my attention that a number of other bloggers, of whom I’m very fond, have been experiencing some or all of the above.

I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in amazing connections, ones that sometimes blow me away by their synchronicity. Not for the first time here I find myself renewed by reading the thoughts and feelings of others and the honesty with which they share them. I also god bless email and friends across the ether. Some of the allusions in the following poem are born of reading others’ posts, comments and emails. And listening to an enlightening Ted Talk. One that makes the excellent point that I, courtesy of that beautiful synchronicity, will adhere to – I can do better. In all areas of life. I just have to try.

it’s too early to be calling me

or too late, I’m comfy

and you know that I can’t rise

your bugle pierces

no respite, it hollers

get up lassie, seek the prize

 

I bleary eye my boots on

and I splash my face

and question silently

who’re we kidding, what’s the point

battle’s over

all a waste of energy

 

but I’m trained for long haul

war and peace

and justice just the same

and tired is no excuse, you’re in the army

you’re a soldier

not a number but a name

 

and it matters that you uniform

and polish spit

and stand up ever straight

you can’t lie abed

and give up ghosts

they’re at the gate

 

there’s a battle to be fought

and in conscience

can’t object

for to not to try, surrender all

to give the field to hate

how keep respect

 

so get up soldier, silence voices

don the boots and arm yourself

and fight another day

ennui, attitude

and poor perception

out the way

 

these ruminations

round and round they go

we rue, beget

pivot points, dissatisfied with somethings

round and round, encircling, draining and despairing

in a helix of regret

 

get the little boots on

you are awesome

and you know you are

believe it soldier

you’ve a purpose, we’ve a purpose

we still orbit that same star

 

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27 thoughts on “Pep Talk”

  1. You know, A-M, I am reading this as my littlest house guest is throwing a tantrum and somehow what you wrote goes perfectly with the cadence of her raging (she needs a nap but won’t take one) and her mother is calmly suggesting that if she would slow down and simply express what she wants in words, things might go more smoothly. I don’t think this is coincidence either! Great timing for me. 😀

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    1. Oh the days of the tantrums! Not sorry those are a byegone. I only really had one who took real strops and I had to sit him on my lap and keep my arms about him saying really calmly and quietly pretty much the same words you’ve said are being used. The he’d calm down, sob a bit and fall asleep. (He’s 25 now, still takes the odd tantrum but I just skelp his lug now! Kidding! )
      I hope all your planning’s proving worthwhile, Beth. They can be a handful to keep entertained. 🙂

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  2. Great read. I think the key is to simply love what you do, love the creative process for what it gives you. I figure if only a handful of people read my books, that’s okay. I still loved writing them. It was an act of selfish indulgence. Happy writing!

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  3. I love your analogy, Anne-Marie – but therein lies the dilemma: do we try to force overselves to write, or wait for inspiration to return? (Don’t ask me as I haven’t the faintest!) I’m with you when you speak about connections. At times it is like there is a force that pervades that deadens creative thought. As long as the desire and need to write exists then I’m sure we’ll find a way through. Take care. Chris

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  4. Great poem. Almost had me in tears. Yeah, the doubts about our own worth – they haunt me too. I soldier on nonetheless. What else can we do? Most days I’m happy because I choose to be, and I’ve been blessed with an amazing life. But the days I doubt my worth, or the value of my blog – well they still happen, so a good pep talk is a good thing!
    Alison

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