Death Poetry

A long time ago, with his kind permission, I posted some of Drew Rinella's poetry here.  A few days ago, Drew let me know about his websites, one for poetry and a new one for "stories".  Drew puts his heart in his poetry and laughs in his stories.  In the stories I see the gangly, sometimes goofy kid who walked into the garage dojo to learn some jujutsu.  In the poems I see the man who fights death and doesn't look away.

His blog had links, mostly people who do what he does. Some days that's holding a physical body together for just a few more minutes.  Somedays it is making hard choices while people scream and bleed. Some days it is making a little old lady feel a little less scared.

I followed some of the links.  Not poetry, not officially.  Just some stories about the job and lessons learned and fears faced and hope delivered.  Most people who get involved in Emergency Services don't write.  The ones that do often have a power.  I don't know if it is the intensity of the experiences one finds on the edge of death or a comfort and comradeship that I feel. They have stood over their bodies and I have stood over mind and we each felt what we felt.  Not so alien or alone when I read these stories.  Try this one

I know people who write poetry and sometimes describe themselves as poets who have spent their entire lives trying to write something with the depth and power of some of Drew's stuff.  I can barely read fiction because so much of it seems an inbred string of cliches with no connection, no comparison to the emotion or intensity of a real life.  I may be wrong, but I don't feel that a shallow life can produce deep poetry.