Poemorama at Paper Poetry
Poetic Reflection on Anger
It may or may not be emotionally intelligent
can’t won’t don’t — I’ll try
mindfully hip, strive harder
possess self-EQ
feel heat making blood boil
listen but don’t lose control
The guts of that tanka emerged as most of the first three lines (which would have been a senryu) this morning while in hypnagogic space as I contemplated the lately-too-often competing conversations I have with my son and his mother (my ex-wife, friend, and co-parent) when he loses his shit on her. Understandably so to him and me. Not so to her.
I urge him to control both his reactions and what he says to her in rage and frustration, which makes her angry, and then I hear from her, and the spiral descends into chaos.
Each of them is both right and wrong. This week, my collection of 12 short (17 and 31-syllable) philosophical poems included:
two wrongs do not a right make and no opposing rights need be wrong
(if what’s after the “and”…