Grief Poetry

I never wrote poetry until my son died. Then it just came pouring out of me. It was the only way I could process the deep anguish of my soul. Poetry isn’t about convincing or arguing or converting. It’s about showing. Revealing what is in me.

We rarely want to keep a record of our deepest trials. We don’t take pictures when we are sad or angry or scared. But sometimes it helps me. It says, this is real too. This is part of the human experience just like happiness is. So every now and then I take a picture of myself when I’m sad. At the cemetery. Like the one below. And when the turmoil reaches a boiling point in my inner being, it spills over in poetry.

Poetry is Painful

By Kim Aasland

Poetry is painful
And yet I write it
Because I don’t know what else to do
It is born of an ache that will not leave
When I place it on paper it leaves a record of that pain

Poetry is beautiful
Yet it comes from agony
I wouldn’t ask for this gift
But now that is is mine I am thankful for it
It’s like an image, an imprint, a timestamp
And it’s the only way to explain things
It’s the only way to share

Poetry is safety
Because it just is
You can’t argue with it
You can only experience it … or not, your choice.
But if you don’t want it you just leave it be without harassment or judgement
And that is what I need: empathy and refuge.

Poetry is me.

Right before my son died and two months after