In my last blog post, I talked about why I had decided to organize Reborn and Other Versifications into three parts: Lost in the Dark, Through the Twilight, and Emerge in the Light.  In that blog post, I described, in short, how writing poetry was integral to my healing process.  In this blog post, I want to go into more detail about how writing poetry facilitated that healing process.  I may not get through this in one post. So, please bear with me as this may become a multi-part blog topic.

I had made the comment that, when I started writing poems, it was like pus oozing from a wound.  One reader commented that that analogy was “unpalatable.”  The commenter did add “LOL” after his statement, but his point is well taken.  To think of poems as pus is kind of gross and may even be a turn off to some readers; but, it is the truth in my experience.

Pus is a byproduct of an infection.  It is produced by your body’s natural healing properties as it fights the infection.  We could go on about the particulars of what makes up pus and why it is produced.  Suffice it to say that it exists and is a sign that that your body is at work, fighting an infection.  “How does this relate to writing poems?” you ask.  Let me explain.

I can’t explain the self-loathing, anxiety, and depression that has haunted me most, if not all, of my life except that I have some genetic disposition towards it.  A doctor told me a few years ago that I was not bi-polar but suffered from what he referred to as chronic recurrent depression, or major recurrent depression.  Again, my purpose here is not to go into details about the illness.  Suffice it to say that, after more than 50 years of living with it, you can imagine the difficulties it has caused in my life, not to mention the impact on my own feelings of self-worth and self-efficacy.

The poison built up within my psyche had finally reached a point of saturation about three years ago, which I could no longer tolerate.  Now, as I said before, I had penned a poem now and then, but what happened here was remarkable.  The poems, dark and hurtful at first, began pouring out of me.  If you read the first section of my book, you’ll certainly see what I mean.  My psyche’s antibodies were fighting overtime against the poison that had built up in me over the years, producing a pus-like, mental and emotional discharge that manifested itself in poetic form.  It was a liberating process.

So, that’s my story, at least as far as poems and pus is concerned.  In my next blog post, I will probably write about the social or spiritual aspects of poetry, as I see it.  Thanks for reading and have a great week.

A. E. Fonner

My psyche’s antibodies were fighting overtime against the poison that had built up in me over the years, producing a pus-like, mental and emotional discharge that manifested itself in poetic form.