Moonlight Musings

Poetry Addiction

'Be careful with the Lyrica. It has a reputation of being very addictive for some people,' my son meant to write concerning my new pain medication. But autocorrect changed it to 'lyrics' and we both had a little laugh, agreeing I am much too far gone to kick the poetry habit.

Is it an addiction? Well, when the Muse fails me, or when I get too busy with other things to make time for writing poetry, I start getting restless, edgy, and soon downright cranky. A daily indulgence keeps the craving manageable. It's not so much the high any more, though that can still happen at times; it's more a case of a long-term user having to get the regular fix in order to function properly in the rest of daily living. (Like an alcoholic having the shakes until after the first drink of the day.)

On the other hand, an enemy (who is no longer in my life) once tried to convince me, as part of an attempt to brainwash me, that it was a pernicious addiction.  This depended not only on his pointing out the signs I just mentioned, but taking it further to indicate that it was harmful. 'Does it interfere with your life? Does it take precedence over your relationships? Do you sometimes go without food in order to finish a poem? Do you miss out on sleep? Do you stay up late at night to write, leaving your husband in bed alone?'  Answers: 'Er, well, yes, sometimes ... quite often.'

But then he took it further again, trying to persuade me I was not really a poet in the first place, not a born poet, that I was fooling myself as part of the addiction. That is what brain-washers do: they try to undermine and destroy your identity – which, if successful, leaves a person very vulnerable and malleable. The brain-washer then gives you a new identity – as cult follower very often; in this case I think obedient puppet was the aim. It didn't work.

This time he was looking for 'no' answers.

'Do you write poems every day?'  'Yes.'

'Do other people read them?'  'Yes.'

'Do people tell you they like them?'  'Yes.'

'Do they say they are moved by your poetry, that it really makes a difference in their lives?' 'Yes.'

[Thanks to Poets United among others, for those last two answers!]

'Ah, but does your poetry get published in magazines and things?' 'Yes.'

'But do editors actually invite you to send them poems?' 'Yes.'

(He might have added, 'Have you been writing poems all your life?' That would have got a 'Yes' too.) 

He ran out of questions. Instead of proving that I wasn't really a poet, he had me confirm to myself that I was ... am. 

Mind you, in retrospect, I think that a 'Yes' to 'Have you ever written a poem?' would be sufficient to establish that! (As Marge Piercy says, and I am fond of quoting: 'A real writer is one who really writes.' By the same token, a real poet....)

When I look back, I am interested to note that the second lot of questions, which were supposed to lead to answers showing I wasn't really a poet, were not at variance with those which he had used to label me an addict. And my answers to both sets of questions were consistent.

So am I both a born poet and an addict? No, I think the things that look like addiction are part of fulfilling something innate ... or at least so deep-seated, so ingrained, that it might as well be. 

I prefer to think of it as a vocation. You might rather see it as 'a calling' – or even, less exaltedly, an infection or disease! Or maybe for you it's a hobby, a pastime, a pleasant recreation, play. That's perfectly valid too, and as far as I can see still means you're a real poet.

So long as we are not so obsessive that we miss too many meals, or refuse too many opportunities to show love and express friendship, I think it is at least a harmless addiction. (Well, I would say that, wouldn't I?)

I do admit I am absolutely unwilling to live without it!

Look, I even have a badge that outs me. (Obtained from Austin International Poetry Festival, Texas, 2006.) Evidently I am not the only one around!

How about you? Are you 'real', addicted, vocational, playing, or all of the above?