My Artist

By Kim Helmore

Reclaiming a silenced inner artist and setting her creativity free.

My artist was sabotaged

by well meaning adults

She was hung on a post

and left to the crows

You will not make money

as an artist - they said

Dreams of pursuing

the one thing I loved

Dashed - placed in the trash

too hard to resist

Too far a leap - to insist

crumbled into a heap

Something meaningful, they said

squashing any desire

Something practical, they said

letting loose those doubts

They did not understand

that my art was

My one pleasure, the one thing

that stopped the pain

The one thing about myself

that I did not disdain

The one thing that

kept me sane

No money to be made

starving artist, they said

All hopes and illusions

put bluntly to bed

Without my artist to

treat my needs

Without my artist

to calm my feeds

he cloth it unraveled

my heart did not burn

Passions left by the wayside

allowed disdain to turn

Lowering my resilience

into a box - my passions went

Hidden down deep

passions unraveling threads

From the author:

I am a 55 year old mother of two, with a supportive husband and deep wounds to heal. My poetry is helping me find my way in this noisy world, by allowing me a safe space to speak my voice and unearth what’s needing to heal within me. My Artist is a reflection on my own internal artist, that was lost because of family and societies expectations, to do what you are expected to do. It’s a voice for the young artist in me, who listened to them, instead of listening to her heart.

-Kim Helmore, 2025

Volcanos erupted

self pity insured

A part of my being

tucked away and dimmed

But slowly I learned

she could not be silenced

She was my best friend

tucking her away

Only insured

- a bitter end

She came to the light

that playful artist child

Opened to daylight

her innocence renewed

Laughter and happiness

is what she bought forth

Coping in her adult clothes

that playful being endured

I now live with her pleasures

happy and content

No money to be made

but that’s not my intent

So sad that I listened

to that adult advice

And belittled her pleasure

and her pure delight

She is a part of me

an integral voice

With her, I’m assured

that I can never be lost

Expression in words

expression in sight

Expression in happiness

and excited delights

Colours, textures, form

and movement

My artist is here

and always will be

Here to remind me

to open the gates

To set my creativity free!

because …....it’s never too late!