Prayer for This Boy in This Bed, Sisters, and Leftover Life
Calvin Ray S.
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My drive to write poetry comes and goes in waves. After a long dry season, a combination of reuniting with some old friends back from college for winter break, discovering a couple of new poets, and a minor fit of insomnia, my inspiration was rekindled and I churned out my most recent major batch. It was very rewarding to compare it to what I'd written a year and a half ago and see how much I've improved with time and some more self-reflection.
Of the three poems included, the first, “Prayer for This Boy in This Bed” was written with my best friend True in mind, who has been struggling with suicidal thoughts and self harm for a long time. However, ever since meeting, we've grown incredibly close with him and have been able to support each other despite never having felt as completely known and loved by anyone else.
The second, "Sisters," was conceived because of the dismaying amount of people I knew who lost loved ones, especially grandparents, this December. I often find it hard to communicate clearly my care for other people in social situations, so this was my stab at trying to express my love and my hope for those suffering in a format where I could take the time to really think about my words.
The last is "Leftover Life," one that finally deals with the narrators own turmoil, instead of that around him. I often like to think of myself as an artist before a person, pinning my self-worth on my creative output, which I can, unlike in life, completely control and correct and find solace in. To be nothing more than a good book would be a lot easier than trying to live until we can see the sun rise and make clear all the mysteries and misfortunes.
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Creativity's both a skill I use in life-to solve problems efficiently, lead people effectively, or understand new perspectives-and in disengaging with life when it's overwhelming or unfulfilling. I turn to art as an audience member or creator to process and release my internalized state of being.
