It’s not every day, that we have the opportunity to share a poem that is very close to a short story. This is the poem This poem is a rescue mission. It is about those moments in life, when you are confronted the hard way with you being not so strong as you might think. This is a poem written by Lana Rafaela Cindric.
Lana is a clear example of a changing mind. She did not care for poetry at all, until she was seventeen years old. Then she read poems written by Charles Bukowski and Warsan Shire. She found herself reading these poems over and over. Her fascination for poetry began.
It can be a very big step from reading to writing. As Lana discovered, it took her quite some time to make this step. What helped was the fact that the two poets she learned to love, wrote in a different way than other poets.
Impossibly, and the uncomplicated but meaningful way in which they wrote. I have always leaned towards fiction writing, following a straight line of narrative, and it thrilled me that this could be poetry, too – no overcomplicated metaphors but rather – pure feeling.
As English wasn’t her native language – Lana lives in Croatia-, she found this to be a bit of a problem. It leads to insecurity. She still considers this to be the language she finds herself to be comfortable writing in. That is what it’s all about: feeling the sense of comfort to write.
This poetess has a good reason to write:
I write because I want you to know that you are not alone.
She then continues:
While that is certainly one of my main reasons for writing in the first place, now I know that I also write poetry because every single poem reminds me of something that, at the point of writing, I did not ever want to forget. Most of the time, poetry helps me find lessons within negative experiences and as such, turn them into something beautiful. By publishing it, I hope that it will give someone else the feeling of being understood, even if just for a moment.
Also, I believe poetry is one of the rare things which show that magic is very much real in a world of nine-to-five jobs and speed dating.
Wise words, for someone who writes beautiful poetry. Poetry that is loved by many. We will do a follow-up on that subject in the near future.
About this poem
We asked Lana the impossible question: What is the poem, that you are most proud of. She considers the poem This poem is a rescue mission as her best one. When reading this poem at first, one might have the idea that this is a short story. Lana uses long sentences and gives us a summary about what it’s like to realise -at a certain moment- that you might not be as strong as you think. These realisations can be at the strangest moments. Yes, when opening a bottle of soda (Cola).
Lana has the following to say about her masterpiece:
It started with me having an existential crisis while washing the dishes and turned into a lesson about my life, another reminder of what I have been through and how I can use it to make my future better. It is one of the most honest poems I have ever written.
This poem is a rescue mission
Did you ever try opening a Coke bottle but the cap is on too tight and suddenly you feel weak without knowing what the hell you’re feeling weak for?
It’s like this – I wash the glasses because I can’t wash the sadness off me and sadness is this humidity clinging to my insides, etching a hole in my heart and
I feel so small, small, small.
It’s like this – i put the glasses in the cupboard
(and this is not a pretty metaphor, these are just glasses)
and they sound so loud when they touch each other;
I forget where the two plates go and now i hate myself because i was just washing the dishes and now I’m having a damn existential crisis in the middle of my kitchen,
shit, I just want to be saved but this is Wild West and
I have to be my own outlaw and my own sheriff.
It’s like this – I can’t explain the anger coiling in my stomach to people who’ve never felt it,
or how sometimes everything is too loud and this is not a classroom – it’s a circle of Dante’s hell,
I can’t explain WHY it took me ten minutes to find the right pen for this poem
or why I like imagining the Californian highway with my windows down,
why I know WHO I love because they make me feel quiet in a crowded room,
WHAT it means to turn all that boiling blood into ink.
So, I write this poem because I am tired and because I want to be saved,
because I used up all the red and the blue pens and laughed through tears in the face of my sadness
(it wants me to choke on the salt water but
I’ve always been stubborn);
It’s like this –
When I was young I wanted to be free so I drank up the stars and walked on thorns,
now sadness’ shackles rattle but the stars are still louder
and this time,
when they tell me how to save my life –