POET'S SUNDAY

It's the first Sunday of the month which means I spent three plus hours with the wonderful voices of San Diego County poets. Our guest speakers, Oriana along with Janet Baker, were outstanding! Oriana is originally from Poland and often brings us this European insight to the poetry world. Janet writes nature poetry and it grabbed us all when she read of the cacti blooms of spring.

I've been invited to be a third member of the Board for this group and it is such an honor. The position means that I can be in on the decision making for where the group is going and am involved with the Escondido Arts Council when they meet. And someone has to stand in for Bob or Lenny, the facilitators of Poet's Inc, when one or the other is out--setting up the room and the "grazing" table, and making members feel welcome.

I feel pretty inadequate when I hear the poetry of these talented writers. But poetry writing is one of the oldest forms of writing, especially my own. I wrote poems when I was ten and have never stopped. My mood captures the pen and my muse is open to many topics. Here's a poem I shared today:

RUNNING

Hands reach out from nowhere
Faces appear from the past
Fielding questions to answer
Creating more questions to ask.
And I am dashing away
Ignoring them all. Or so I say.

Why am I running?
Why am I here?
What have I done
To feel such fear?

I hear the voice again--
"If we catch you, we'll kill you
Or wreak your life,
The only way to dodge us
Is to escape
To run from this strife."

So into the night,
Even during the day,
Not knowing where to go
Or the reason why, I obey.
I seek a place to hide
Turn my face
Close my heart
Shut off my pride.

Can't anyone see?
Can't they hear my plea?
What can the problem be?
Who is my enemy?

I turn to face my tormentor
And find that
It is--
Me.

BD (4/09)