Bipolar Creative Writing and art

[Jeshu]

Hi gerry,

yes, writing is very theraputic. I mostly do metal work now and enjoy it better than writing. I guess working with my hands comes more natural than word-smithing for me.
The one good thing that came out of being bipolar is this gift i've found after being diagnosed. Anyway...that's another story.

By the way, your phrase: "spell knit words" is a faaaaaaaaaaantastic line. You should use it for a poem. The image of words being knit, stitched, sewn....awesome. I also like the sound and visual of "spell-knit"----it just works. Words being knit as though under a spell....good stuff.

Hi Wonder,

I like your kind of playing around with words - I love it even - so unlike my own perspectives often - but so very thoughtfully - even carefully put together into a line of thought or vision.

Yes I agree 'spell knit words' would make a good line - haddened seen it as such though - just part of the imagery I saw when I wrote my lines.

Though I love writing it is more of a battle for me - I struggle with words - how can I describe that which I see inside the living - using mere words to translate actual being?

Years ago - deeply depressed - and totally fed up - I wrote a poem - in total paradox - about this inability of me to say what I wanted to portray. Over the years this poem has lost many lines - for it was a very long spiel indeed - but the guts of it has only got more tell-taling - I think - though I will never achieve that which words can never ever describe.

Have a look,

To The Speakers Of Words.

What do you mean just using words again?
Is mere vocabulary not a little plain?
Words synchronising inner beings into one?
Can such a feat truly be done?
For I cannot, with words relay,
Why I am myself this way.
Be it either good or bad,
Be the interaction sad or glad.
Consider, a good time offers happy faces,
Yet the words spoken merely reflecting traces,
Of the union that is found,
For joy, cannot, by words, be bound.

Bear in mind that laughter resists all spelling.
Even as tears wail words of wrong telling.
Just as rage defies all spoken reason,
So jealousy offers only treason.
Or, look how hate inside you burns,
So, its misery for God's goodness yearns.
For can reality be accurately articulated?
Present tense offering more than formulated?
Giving more than what you can read or I can say.
Something more in your heart and mind to stay.
More then the written pages you use to announce.
Or what your vocal chords can ever pronounce.

Life inside your being, words can only address.
A poor medium, often creating an existential mess.
For your tongue cannot genuinely translate..,
..What feelings twine through your thoughts of late.
Moreover what about these spirits so sly?
Those who string words into a lie?
Please know the heart so you can see,
That words hide much sin and misery.
For even the Word of the Lord,
Requires the Spirit to cut like a flaming sword.
Albeit truth needs no letters to explain itself.
Nor accusers after any mistakes to delve.

Words cannot illustrate the breath of your spirituality,
For that reason life can not be paraphrased so easily.
Because as lack of phrases chain your contemplation,
So can words hinder your salvation.
Therefore linguistics shall not forever stand,
As even Scripture's words come to an end.
Rather the truth your heart accumulates,
Shall determine what final fate awaits.
When in word or letter you've made your stand,
God will such results from you demand.
Yet if the S(s)pirit of truth in love shaped your reality,
Judgement day will bring joy instead of anxiety.

​

 

[wonderwoman]

Hi Wonder,

I like your kind of playing around with words - I love it even - so unlike my own perspectives often - but so very thoughtfully - even carefully put together into a line of thought or vision.



Yes I agree 'spell knit words' would make a good line - haddened seen it as such though - just part of the imagery I saw when I wrote my lines.

Though I love writing it is more of a battle for me - I struggle with words - how can I describe that which I see inside the living - using mere words to translate actual being?


Years ago - deeply depressed - and totally fed up - I wrote a poem - in total paradox - about this inability of me to say what I wanted to portray. Over the years this poem has lost many lines - for it was a very long spiel indeed - but the guts of it has only got more tell-taling - I think - though I will never achieve that which words can never ever describe.



Have a look,

To The Speakers Of Words.

What do you mean just using words again?
Is mere vocabulary not a little plain?
Words synchronising inner beings into one?
Can such a feat truly be done?
For I cannot, with words relay,
Why I am myself this way.
Be it either good or bad,
Be the interaction sad or glad.
Consider, a good time offers happy faces,
Yet the words spoken merely reflecting traces,
Of the union that is found,
For joy, cannot, by words, be bound.

Bear in mind that laughter resists all spelling.
Even as tears wail words of wrong telling.
Just as rage defies all spoken reason,
So jealousy offers only treason.
Or, look how hate inside you burns,
So, its misery for God's goodness yearns.
For can reality be accurately articulated?
Present tense offering more than formulated?
Giving more than what you can read or I can say.
Something more in your heart and mind to stay.
More then the written pages you use to announce.
Or what your vocal chords can ever pronounce.

Life inside your being, words can only address.
A poor medium, often creating an existential mess.
For your tongue cannot genuinely translate..,
..What feelings twine through your thoughts of late.
Moreover what about these spirits so sly?
Those who string words into a lie?
Please know the heart so you can see,
That words hide much sin and misery.
For even the Word of the Lord,
Requires the Spirit to cut like a flaming sword.
Albeit truth needs no letters to explain itself.
Nor accusers after any mistakes to delve.

Words cannot illustrate the breath of your spirituality,
For that reason life can not be paraphrased so easily.
Because as lack of phrases chain your contemplation,
So can words hinder your salvation.
Therefore linguistics shall not forever stand,
As even Scripture's words come to an end.
Rather the truth your heart accumulates,
Shall determine what final fate awaits.
When in word or letter you've made your stand,
God will such results from you demand.
Yet if the S(s)pirit of truth in love shaped your reality,
Judgement day will bring joy instead of anxiety.

​

Thank you. Appreciate that compliment. I still think my writing is far from what i want it to be, but it is what it is and i guess not being satisfied keeps me pushing to get better.


Don't think it is a battle just for you....i too think of writing like a battle. It can be quite frustrating to not be able to convey what you see and feel in the mind's eye. Language is a limited tool, but i believe, with practice, exposure and cultivation it will come more easily with time. Have you ever checked out any books on poetry? If not, I recommend a book by stephen minot called: The three genres. It's a good basic introduction to 3 types of creative writing. (poetry, prose/fiction and drama). I used this book back in college in my first creative writing class. You can find it super cheap at amazon.com---i just saw some cheap used ones for only .47 cents there.

Writing is a craft like any other---words are the raw material (the marble) and your mind is the chisel. The words are not the hard part (the words exist already), the hard part is learning to discern, to see, to chisel and distill those words in such a way that they succeed to convey the vision/emotion that is in your head. Revision is just as important.... if not more important than the creation itself. For me, revision is hardest because i tend to feel too married to certain words and phrases. I tend to be too wordy and long winded and have to force myself to become objective. Sometimes that means to put a piece away and not look at it for a while. I am best at being objective when i'm detached from the piece and look at it with fresh eyes.

Don't say you will never achieve to describe what you have inside....of course you can achieve it! It's simply a matter of practice and cultivation. No one is a born writer.....writing skills come with time and application. If it's a passion for you, then that's all that really matters at the end. .....i'll comment more later on your poem.....i have to take my dogs out. They keep whining...

keep on keeping on brother

 

[Soulwings]

Wonderwoman- those I call delicious words. I have my own little notebook of them, and sometimes to spur on a poem I pick one and use that as the title. It takes me interesting places, that is for sure. And if I feel like doing a sestina, well, those words come in handy then as well. Here are a few of mine (and I truly like yours!):

flummox
poverty
moor
platitude
altered
scarlet
ambrosia
palpable
capricious
willow
brocade
footbridge
daydream
pendulum
misunderstood
dandelion
brusque
trellis
waterfall
grovel(ed)
palisade

and the list goes on. Those are just a few, and while they aren't necessarily sophisticated words, they do sound good in my mouth. And I turned "mellifluous" into a poem. It actually came out quite well, although not relating much to the title. I'll have to type that one up sometime.

Now for the freewrite... well, one of them. I'll highlight phrases that I think I could turn into poems:

Running down the streets of Paris flowers blooming bright gossamer white and maroon velvet skirts gone out of fashion smiles on the streetcorners signs leading you to where you should go out in the country see the goat girl dance morphing into a new butterfly fragile wings working the sun birds flying high holding up the banner of the sky indigo cerulean velvet brushed and patterned not yet stained and tattered green grass glittering like broken glass dew tiny spider webs tangled in the arborvitae and musk roses delicate intricate weaving strong cat flirting with the birds fluttering feather fall to the ground small pile of gold and russet stained filaments shining in the dazzling sunlight watch the cloud army come marching in grey ripped and stained Confederate uniforms hiding the blue Union sky's perfect uniform for a little while watch the battle cloud horses raising rain with their thundering hooves lightning whips crack the speed is increased wind of their wild passing is dead sky fights back history old musty textbooks in an old musty library a wordstorm would blow them all clean diamond paned windows of light float on sapphire and jade rivers waves capped with pearl and jostling the diamond light on further melodious sings the water rushing under a stone bridge...

... and it goes on for another half page (of notebook, not of straight printed text). But it was very interesting to see what came out of "running down the streets of Paris"!! and "watch the goat girl dance" is underlined bc it's already turned into a poem, one that I quite like. Revisions revisions revisions, of course, but hey, that will come.

 

[Soulwings]

Oh, and Gerry- writing is work for me too. It doesn't come naturally to many (if any) people, and while it is very rewarding and enjoyable and exciting, it is work. I have to sit down and force myself to write sometimes, even if I am not feeling a poem is ready to be born, just bc practice is the most important thing, getting head around words is very important, and just studying the way to create wordsongs is very important, whether or not something amazing comes out of it.

So yes. Keep writing, keep struggling with it, for gems will be found eventually.

 

[Soulwings]

Bump again... I would hate for this thread to be lost.

I'll figure out what poem to share next... if... maybe.

 

[youthwalk]

LOL.


I'll find another to share as well!

 

[youthwalk]

This is an older piece. It was done in '99 or '00 I think. Graphite on smooth paper.

 

[Jeshu]

Like those paintings, though I'm not into painting much myself, couldn't if I tried.

I once wrote the following poem after I meditated on the very essence of the spirit of hypocrisy. As is usual for me I had to address that. The following lines followed.

To The Hypocrite.

You speak nicely, so correct your view to be,
In absolute faith you seem to be with me.
Yet your private contemplation I don't see.
What hidden thoughts bid me misery?

Now you smile ever so encouragingly,
Nodding your head as if you do agree,
Yet the frigidity of your eyes on me,
Betray your private hostility.

Though your assurance is always friendly,
Pretending that you are fully trustworthy,
I see that you are simply lying to me,
Knowing you as my adversary.

(Sound out my rhyming sound and put yourself on front of the spirit of hypocrisy and see how it materialises - I love and hate it at the same time.)


​

 

[wonderwoman]

Wonderwoman- those I call delicious words. I have my own little notebook of them, and sometimes to spur on a poem I pick one and use that as the title. It takes me interesting places, that is for sure. And if I feel like doing a sestina, well, those words come in handy then as well. Here are a few of mine (and I truly like yours!):

flummox
poverty
moor
platitude
altered
scarlet
ambrosia
palpable
capricious
willow
brocade
footbridge
daydream
pendulum
misunderstood
dandelion
brusque
trellis
waterfall
grovel(ed)
palisade

and the list goes on. Those are just a few, and while they aren't necessarily sophisticated words, they do sound good in my mouth. And I turned "mellifluous" into a poem. It actually came out quite well, although not relating much to the title. I'll have to type that one up sometime.

Now for the freewrite... well, one of them. I'll highlight phrases that I think I could turn into poems:

Running down the streets of Paris flowers blooming bright gossamer white and maroon velvet skirts gone out of fashion smiles on the streetcorners signs leading you to where you should go out in the country see the goat girl dance morphing into a new butterfly fragile wings working the sun birds flying high holding up the banner of the sky indigo cerulean velvet brushed and patterned not yet stained and tattered green grass glittering like broken glass dew tiny spider webs tangled in the arborvitae and musk roses delicate intricate weaving strong cat flirting with the birds fluttering feather fall to the ground small pile of gold and russet stained filaments shining in the dazzling sunlight watch the cloud army come marching in grey ripped and stained Confederate uniforms hiding the blue Union sky's perfect uniform for a little while watch the battle cloud horses raising rain with their thundering hooves lightning whips crack the speed is increased wind of their wild passing is dead sky fights back history old musty textbooks in an old musty library a wordstorm would blow them all clean diamond paned windows of light float on sapphire and jade rivers waves capped with pearl and jostling the diamond light on further melodious sings the water rushing under a stone bridge...

... and it goes on for another half page (of notebook, not of straight printed text). But it was very interesting to see what came out of "running down the streets of Paris"!! and "watch the goat girl dance" is underlined bc it's already turned into a poem, one that I quite like. Revisions revisions revisions, of course, but hey, that will come.

Good stuff soulwings! Here are the lines that jumped out to me from this exercise your wrote. These are my favorites....and i hope you don't mind if i omit a word here and there.....

---see the goat girl dance

* working the sun birds holding up the banner of the sky (or could be: the work of sun birds hold up the banner of the sky.)

---velvet brushed and patterned not yet stained

---tangled in the musk rose ---just love the sound and especially the visual of these two words: "Musk rose"

---feathers fall...small pile of gold and russet stained filaments shining in the sunlight. (i absolutely loooooooove this image!
it's fantastical....ooooh ahhhh goosebumps.
Filaments is such a deeeeeeeelicious word! So
sumptuous....yum)

---watch the cloud army marching in

---diamond--paned windows float on sapphire (another gem of a line! Seriously, a really fine image! i think you don't need the word "light" since diamond and sapphire makes the image more subtle and unique, plus it also works better rhthymically when "light" is removed. just my opinion)

---jade rivers capped with pearl

---jostling (in) the diamond light. (i added the word "in") jostling is a good verb to describe the movement of light and/or water.

---water under a stone bridge. (i like the combined images of water and a stone bridge. Water and stone...very simple, yet very powerful images. Perhaps it could be something about "water songs"...."the water songs under a stone bridge."....this isn't how i would revise it, but, but you get my drift. Or how about...the stone bridge sings of water songs...?

You've got some good stuff here girly. You certainly have a good eye/vision. That's the hard part in writing isn't it? finding the right words that best suits that vision.....that image that makes you go: "aaaaahhhh"

 

[wonderwoman]

Just wanted to share one of my favorite poems by Rilke. This is how i feel right now.


The following translation is by Stephen Mitchell:

The Panther

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold anything else.
It seems to him there are a thousand bars;
and behind the bars, no world.
As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.
Only at times, the curtain of the pupils lifts, quietly--.
An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.

 

[Soulwings]

Brianna (youthwalk... I think that is right?), that is fantastic! I love your way of doing the eyes - they are really striking. Looks as though she is really peering out of the paper at you.

Gerry- interesting poem! In some places the rhymes seem a little forced but to me, that goes along with hypocrisy... works nicely. And yey on you for addressing something that needs to be addressed in today's world (and throughout all of history, I suppose).

Wonderwoman- I love that poem by Rilke, thanks for sharing! I definitely need to get into his stuff - somehow free verse seems to catch my heart more than rhymed and metered verse (not that free verse can't be metered), I don't know why. What are some of your other favorite poets?

Thanks for the compliments on my s.o.c. freewrite. They made me smile... and yes, it is hard sometimes to capture the image just right... but usually that comes to me pretty easily if I am in the poetry-writing mood (which is happening a bit more frequently so far this summer). I need to do more - I've gotten three done so far - they are very tiring for some reason. I will be working more on poems - I would share a rough draft, but they tend to be very rough. However, perhaps we could workshop it on here if I typed it up?

This is a fantastic thread. Thank you, Jynx, for starting it!!

 

[Jeshu]

Seeing And Being.
​

​

Please consider,​

Dwellers in darkness know little about light,​

Not seeking those things good and right.​

​

Did you experience,​

Expensive pleasure whatever it may be,​

is nothing more than fraud and robbery.

Did you Feel,​

Shame and guilt burns hot in those,​

Who the Devil has by the nose.​

Did you Know,​

Many begging for a meagre crust,​

Say “I will, I do, I did and now I must.”​

​

Have you observed,​

How arrogance speaks in a big fat boasting I,​

A voice which only ever speaks the prideful lie.​

​

Have you seen,​

That the evil try to kill love within,​

Saying “what about wrongful deeds and sin?”​

Did you conclude,​

As payment for those unloving deeds,​

The sinners their wrongs in horror meets.

Love Faith and Hope,
For you will be okay,
As Jesus is on The Way?

​

 

[Jeshu]

Ella​

​

You are​

so​

small.​

​

Beautifully​

fashioned.​

​

Incredible,​

vulnerable.​

​

Depending​

so​

much.​

​

Carefully carrying you​

to your​

mother.​

​

I tenderly​

pass​

you on.​

​

I glimpse​

one​

last look.​

​

You are​

so​

cute.​

​

you are​

my baby​

granddaughter.​

 

[wonderwoman]

Let me tell you something: your lips are golden streams
These visions,
These sheets of glass

He named you
Ribbon of milk
A cup of stone
A storm thrust flash like blade or spruce
A water slip
when gold blood spills the oil-shine

lunar moths hush
the strain of star nets
stippled in the birch
moon-foil guilds her star-tipped fingers stretched

amber blood
smeared, stained
flecked
soft
on sheets of linen.


(i just found some of these strings of words........it's nothing concrete....that is, not a formed poem, but some seedlings i'd like to work on. Let me know which lines/images you think are strongest? I'm curious to get some feedback as to what these word-images bring to your mind.)

 

[Soulwings]

Let me tell you something: your lips are golden streams
These visions,
These sheets of glass

I got comparing visions to sheets of glass here, so hopefully they are not disconnected in any way. That is an amazing start to a poem (not so sure about the first line, though); just play around with it a little bit and see what you can come up with, what those words conjure up for you in your mind. I'm not sure how to describe what I see when I read those lines.

He named you
Ribbon of milk
A cup of stone
A storm thrust flash like blade or spruce
A water slip
when gold blood spills the oil-shine

Overall I love this description - there is so much to work with in it. You could do a lot with just the phrase "a cup of stone," start or end or title a poem with it. "When gold blood spills the oil-shine" ... mesmerizing quality about it. A lot of your poems don't really seem to touch the earth - not that that is a bad thing, no, far from it - they just seem ethereal and gauzy to the touch. This phrase makes me feel similarly.

lunar moths hush
the strain of star nets
stippled in the birch
moon-foil guilds her star-tipped fingers stretched

Wonderful, wonderful wonderful wonderful!! You could definitely do a poem from these lines. Once again, the feeling of ethereal words is hitting me now. You have a knack for bringing out the magical in everyday scenes and things - use that talent to the best of your ability! I love "moon-foil guilds her star-tipped fingers."

amber blood
smeared, stained
flecked
soft
on sheets of linen.

Not so sure that I like this image/phrase. It doesn't feel like the rest of your poemling does. Seems more down-to-earth and even a little bit on the macabre side of things.

Yes, yes yes yes! I love it when you share poemlings or poems or freewrites. Kindred spirits in writing, indeed. I will have to come up with one of my poemlings soon... not a full-fledged poem but one that has just been created.

This thread inspires me to write more! suppose I ought to sit down and get that creative side of my brain functioning again.

 

[bsd13]

and it's a cold, cold rain
without you
and it's a long, long night
without You

and it's a bleak, bleak day
without you
and it's sad, sad life
without You

oh my Lord, my God, my Savior
don't you see the pain i'm in
don't you care
that i suffer again


=====================

some days are just too much
i once heard that You're enough
so i put my hope in You

it screams in my soul
emptiness fills me full
so i put my hope in You

grapes of wrath i've swallowed down
and my mourning comes around
but there You are to light my way
to lift me up from the grave

 

[Jeshu]

I think I've seen The Light,
Darkness I can no longer see,
All is completely illuminated,
Lightening striking me!
​

 

[wonderwoman]

Let me tell you something: your lips are golden streams
These visions,
These sheets of glass

I got comparing visions to sheets of glass here, so hopefully they are not disconnected in any way. That is an amazing start to a poem (not so sure about the first line, though); just play around with it a little bit and see what you can come up with, what those words conjure up for you in your mind. I'm not sure how to describe what I see when I read those lines.

He named you
Ribbon of milk
A cup of stone
A storm thrust flash like blade or spruce
A water slip
when gold blood spills the oil-shine

Overall I love this description - there is so much to work with in it. You could do a lot with just the phrase "a cup of stone," start or end or title a poem with it. "When gold blood spills the oil-shine" ... mesmerizing quality about it. A lot of your poems don't really seem to touch the earth - not that that is a bad thing, no, far from it - they just seem ethereal and gauzy to the touch. This phrase makes me feel similarly.

lunar moths hush
the strain of star nets
stippled in the birch
moon-foil guilds her star-tipped fingers stretched

Wonderful, wonderful wonderful wonderful!! You could definitely do a poem from these lines. Once again, the feeling of ethereal words is hitting me now. You have a knack for bringing out the magical in everyday scenes and things - use that talent to the best of your ability! I love "moon-foil guilds her star-tipped fingers."

amber blood
smeared, stained
flecked
soft
on sheets of linen.

Not so sure that I like this image/phrase. It doesn't feel like the rest of your poemling does. Seems more down-to-earth and even a little bit on the macabre side of things.

Yes, yes yes yes! I love it when you share poemlings or poems or freewrites. Kindred spirits in writing, indeed. I will have to come up with one of my poemlings soon... not a full-fledged poem but one that has just been created.

This thread inspires me to write more! suppose I ought to sit down and get that creative side of my brain functioning again.

Forgot to mention that these stanzas are not connected.....i just found them in different pages of my journal and picked out the lines i liked best.
I didn't mean them to come across as a poem.....more like flashes of images. Yea my stuff is pretty ethereal. I tend to think in terms of what i call "dream logic". The logic that only exists in dreams and difficult to articulate in waking life. When i do form a poem, i am more deliberate and concrete. Oh and also regarding the line: "ribbon of milk".....i was imagining milk poured out of a pitcher forming "a ribbon"....not a ribbon made of milk. I guess without describing the action, the ribbon thing is lost right?

My favorite line to pronounce is: the strain of star nets stippled in the birch.
I just love all the s's, t's, p's, r's and the word "birch"......oh how i love that word.
I also love moon-foil. I'm always looking for fresh ways of describing moon light which isn't easy since moonlight is the most overused thing ever.

I'm so glad you are being inspired to write more. Creativity is such a life saver for me. It's my barometer to when i'm coming out of a depression. I've been making some jewelry these last few days so it's a good sign that this fog is finally passing....hopefully. Do you ever feel creative when depressed? i usually don't....i lose interest in everything.

Hey btw, how can i post an image here? i'd like to show you some of my metal work. i tried the "insert" button but it asks for a web address. How can i upload an image from my files?

 

[Soulwings]

I'll reply more in depth later; but as far as uploading images - go to http://www.photobucket.com and create an account (free) - you can upload images there and link them here that way.

 

[Soulwings]

Okay, now I have time to reply more fully. Yey, I hit the nail on the head with the gauzy/ethereal guess. That makes me happy. I do like it - dream logic describes it well. It's so different from how I write (probably bc I am unable to figure out dream logicky thinking ) but that is far from a bad thing. Share more! and yes, it makes more sense now that you said that they were just lines that you picked out, rather than the start of a poem. The "ribbon of milk" does need an action describing it, bc otherwise it does just sound like a stream of milk on a smooth surface.

Here are is a poemling that I have written recently:

Whipped trees crackle
after the unexpected autumn ice storm,
branches sagging,
looking beaten, weary to the core.
Huddled in clumps, as if they
are trying to stay warm,
keep their sap from flowing cold,
their ice-jacketed leaves
shimmer in the moody sunlight -
shadows now here, now gone.
- 6.6.08

Any suggestions? I'm a little unsure of the "unexpected" in the second line, but I think it may be necessary? to get the point across? I don't know.

Ahhhh *hides in corner* I hate sharing my stuff. :o