Deferred and Hidden Poems

Today I censored myself when teaching. Actually, I denied the students full access to a poem called "What You Should Know to Be A Poet" by Gary Snyder. Why did I do this? I felt they would be offended by a couple of the lines in the poem. I question the whole idea of what happened. On one hand, I don't think it's that big of a deal, but on the other hand, I am concerned about my incapability to be completly free as a performer when I am teaching. I could have performed the poem and made a statement with it and maybe some of them would have enjoyed a poem unlike any in our textbook. So was I afraid or shy or what? I think I am getting more conservative as I get older. I wonder if that means I am losing my creative edge. I wonder if it means I am losing something of my old self that shouldn't be lost. Yesterday when I was reading through some of my older poems--from the year 2000 or so--I got caught up in hating them. They were yucky to me. I don't even know why. I used to think they were good. I think I might have hid them for too long; I might have ruined the poems by not getting them out into circulation. They sit waiting for me to do something with them but when I try to handle them, sort them, think about revising or editing them, I just feel sick and overwhelmed and I wonder if this phenomenon is unique to me or if others share the same type of feeling. How old can a poem get before it's no good anymore? Of course, there are so many PUBLISHED old poems which people never tire of, that is true. I am thinking of the deferred and hidden poems, the ones who fester, who whisper to you, who sometimes yell at you and chew you out for leaving them so lonely and unread. I am thinking of all the unpublished, undiscovered poems and writings that populate my trunks and boxes and notebooks and bookshelves. What will become of them all if I die before I can make them come to Life?