Denise Levertov writes, in 1965, on John Wieners’ poems: “The things various confessional poets describe have happened to him too – drug addiction, the pain & loneliness of homosexual love, the mental breakdown …” This is 50 years ago – I’ve never read John Wieners so I can’t vouch for his content but I trust Levertov is correct. His poetry is out-of-print so I ‘borrowed’ some of his poems from the Poetry Foundation website.
chilly loneliness 1
I’m not a ‘confessional poet’ even though I often write about my life, my childhood and sexuality. I don’t think of it as confessing – confession, to me, involves revealing the hidden sins, shames. I may have regrets but no shame about my past and nothing worth hiding.
I read this review of hers & think how much & how little things have changed. What she says saddens me – in 1965 it seemed homosexual love could only exist in an atmosphere of pain & loneliness – queers in novels had to suffer or they weren’t considered realistic.
chilly loneliness 2
There’s also a sense that without sufficient, credible pain & suffering, writing lacks the emotional depth to be taken seriously – even Wieners says in The Acts of Youth ‘But the formula all great art is made of pain and suffering.’ Which lets me off the hook, whew, as I haven’t suffered enough, nor seek to, to create great art. It’s enough to create art period.
chilly loneliness 3
I also know that sexuality has nothing to with ‘drug addiction, the pain & loneliness of …. love.’
Unrepressed
I have no memories to repress
sure I have moments I’d like to forget
like the time he ended things with an email
saying he was no longer in the mood
I can’t forget that
I don’t want need to repress it
it’s one of those things that happen in life
I want it never to have happened
or to have been the one to send that message
it’s not that my past
is bereft of events
or that I’m in denial
I was spared
simple as that
the only abuse I experienced
was from a culture
of scapegoating
you know
lets pick on the fag
so we don’t have to deal with our own shit
so that we don’t have to think
through the nature of sexuality
because we’re the normal hetero majority
the abuse that comes
when it assumed
bullying is the way
to teach boys to become men
by defending themselves
that’s not a memory I’ve repressed
not that I can still see their faces
but I can hear those words
feel those shoves in high-school corridors
I have no memories to repress
but that doesn’t make
my life any less value
any less authentic
than that of those who have to unpack
those harrow moments of their lives
don’t dimiss me
because I haven’t suffered enough
to earn your respect
besides I’m too busy
being unrepressed
Loyalist Workshop is the real deal