National Poetry Month

National Poetry Month

April is National Poetry Month.

Did you know I write poetry? Yep, it’s true.

I don’t think I’d call myself a poet, though. I mean, I think of poets as people who write poetry way more often than I do. I’ve only written three poems that I feel strongly about. Not that it matters anyway. Poetry, like art, is just a tool that I use.

Or rather, I’d say it’s a tool that uses me.

When I have something that I need to express, I don’t know ahead of time how that will look or what form it will take. Sometimes images flow through my head, and sometimes it’s the words that flow, and I’m just the hapless artist lost in the storm with no choice but to create.

How very poetic. {:

Anyhoo, in honor of National Poetry Month, I will share with you my most recent poem. I don’t think it’s complete. It’s very raw, nearly unedited. There are parts that I don’t like, and I don’t think I crafted it well enough. But, I’ve let it sit for a while and I still can’t make any changes to it, so it is what it is. I may rewrite it at some point, but for now, this is what it wants to be. So, here you go!

Who Am I?

Whitney Fawn MacEachern, 2015

I knocked softly at first
See I wasn’t sure either
But I go headlong into the abyss so I was insistent
Eventually you relented
You stepped aside to let me in
It rendered you powerless
even though you didn’t know it at first
But you didn’t know it
Or maybe you did
This was your first move
And your fatal move
The act that destroyed you before it even began
Don’t you know I’m a vampire?

Let’s play a game
Let me show you this cool place
I like to come here to hide
No one can find me here
Come sit here with me awhile
I never want to leave this place
Hey don’t worry. It’s alright
Tell me your dreams
Don’t you know I’m trustworthy?

Knock knock
Ok you can come in
But don’t go looking in drawers and cabinets
Stay where I can see you
I have stuff in the basement no one should see or touch
But your back is turned
Your guard is down
I go hunting anyway
Don’t you know I’m an explorer?

As I had been
There was a lot of stuff in the basement
Most of it all dusty and dirty
Grimy and slimy and dark
But I like murky dark places
I like the dank places we don’t show to new people
Don’t you know I’m a deep-sea diver?

As you stand in the kitchen
As your back is still turned I ascend the stairs
There’s nothing more fascinating than an attic
An attic crammed with things
Hidden things
Your memories all locked away for another day
Stacked to the rafters with a million tiny locked boxes
Don’t you know I’m a locksmith?

Like birds in cages luring in gullible tourists
I set everything free
The attic is a wreck
Lockboxes strewn about
Spilling
Vomiting their contents
Emptying
Gone but not forgotten relics of the past
Rain down on you
Crashing on your head
I skip on out of there before you even know what hit you

Maybe you haven’t forgotten everything
Maybe you still think of me with much fondness
Or maybe you curse my very existence
But you can’t say I didn’t warn you
But you can’t say you didn’t warn yourself
You can’t say you didn’t warn me
You knew what you were getting into when you opened the door
Your own destruction
As daybreak casts shadows on my coffin

Don’t you know I’m a vampire?

Don’t ask me what it’s about. It’s highly personal and I’m going to be mysterious about it. But you know, I think not knowing the “official” meaning behind it is more interesting than knowing.

It’s like a magic trick — knowing the secret ruins the fun. And if I told you the meaning, that meaning would be the only meaning it would ever have, and I think it’s way more interesting to find out what it means to YOU. So if you have a comment on it, or would like to share your interpretation, I’d love to hear it. Feel free to leave a comment below or contact me in another way. (:

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