Poetry and Me
I’m a poet.
It seems to me I’ve always been.
When kids my age were running after soccer balls,
I was nursing a dislocated knee…and writing poetry.
When other girls my age, in high school glided down the halls
I limped or tried to dissimulate and felt much less than all the rest.
But, by then I could write poetry.
I shared some with my closest friends and found they almost envied me.
Imagine that! Those graceful swans with well placed knees..actually envying me!!
After surgeries, and pins and casts, feeling more secure when I descended stairs
I felt my future bright and put away my notebooks full of verse, to finally ride a bike.
Now in later life, all those times, before I knew the damage I was doing
Putting on shows and amazing my peers by bending my elbows backwards
making all go “Wow!: when they saw me as their star contorting circus act,
twisting and turning my body like a pretzel, to their amazement and applause.
Now is when I pay the piper.. my once slippery joints, are locked and rusted, and it’s painful.
In this stage of my life..I picked up my poetry again, about 15 years ago..and never let it go.
I am pretty much immobile, need a cane, to traverse my home,
but for 15 years my poetry has been flowing and it is how I can still reach out.
I can touch others with my words, I keep an active blog, and feel a thrill when someone says to me,
“Thank you for that poem, you really touched and helped me” Am amazed to have readers from 87 countries!
Even if I no longer travel, I do and can through my poetry. I can’t tell you what that means to me.
In my limited condition, I still feel good about myself. I can still be an active part of humanity..
I can touch the world, connect with those who are so busy they barely slow down
and I can describe to them, the hidden beauty in the leaf of a red rose, or how the dusk descends,
or how the children’s laughter in the street, makes me realize, I’m truly lucky to have the life I lead.
The pain and limitations, for a moment are forgotten, and the satisfaction I feel when a poem’s done,
is the greatest feeling, as I send it off to those who have signed up to read my latest one.
The act of writing poetry, still seems like a miracle to me, something beyond my will, the muse, just
takes me and I forget my pain, and flow so freely; every word I scoop from the river is mine
and yet it belongs to everyone.
How does one begin to write it? How do I? I’m happy to share the secret, the magic formula:
You don’t need an idea to create…ideas come…all you need to do is start.
Pen on paper, fingers on the keys… let the stanzas stream right through you.
Be the scribe, get out of your body, for just a moment and write your poetry.
Karima Hoisan
March 4th 2021
Costa Rica
*Footnote I have Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Hypermobile (HEDS) and have been asked to talk about how creativity helps those who live with chronic limiting conditions.
I was asked to write about poetry, one of several creative areas I work in.
Digital Rabbit Hole 
