Writing: A Conversation Without Interruptions

More than half way through my series now. I didn’t realise I had so much to say, so thank you all for staying with me.

Today, as the header suggests, we hit poetry.

I’m not sure that I’ve talked much about poetry before, mine or anybody else’s. This is because I have written very little of it, compared to my fictional prose and that I feel under qualified to do so.

I enjoyed my English Literature A level. I believe it was the only one of the four I did in which I managed a half way decent grade. I loved reading the great works of literature and picking them apart. What I struggled with, was poetry and verse. All those metaphors and similes made me want to cry and the abstract imagery in some of it had me tearing my hair out in the middle of the night. In hindsight, it’s peculiar that I struggled with it so much because in my youth I had quite a poetic outlook. I spent quite a lot of time making up verses and songs and rhyming schemes before I settled in on To Be A Teenage Vampire. And even afterwards I kept going for a short while.

There is [a] skill(s) required to write good poetry. One needs to be able (in my opinion) to express complex ideas in a short number of words and/or lines. One needs to be happy with the idea that some of these ideas cannot help but be abstract and most of all, one needs exquisite patience. Poetry cannot be rushed; not if you want it to be any good. A three verse poem can take as long to write, edit and polish as a short story of 7,000 words, though the output is seemingly far more modest.

That is one of the reasons why I don’t write poetry any more. The other is simply that I don’t feel very good at it!

I know that progression and growth comes from stepping outside of your comfort zone, but I do plenty of that in other areas. The brutal truth is that I don’t have any more time left to tackle a new writing style, nor will I until the twins are a hell of a lot older.

In the past I didn’t have such constraints on time – obviously – so there are a few poems actually out in the blue nowhere, clogging up my name and making me look silly. 😦 However I’m a great believer in growth and learning, so I try not to feel too ashamed of these early attempts. Many of them can be found on FictionPress and if you dare, I invite you to head over to my profile and pick out a couple to read. There are also a couple of short stories there that I’d forgotten about.

If you’d rather not immerse yourself in the foetid pool of my adolescent angst, then don’t worry, I’ve got a puddle you can dip your toes into. :-p

There’s a lot to be said about love
And the pain that is caused by love
If you get in too deep
You’ll find you must reap
What you’ve sown in the name of this love

There’s a lot to be said about pain
And I’ll try to make it quite plain
Its quite often brought
By those that you thought
Would be there to help fight off its claim

There’s a lot to be said about sorrow
And these wise words I think I shall borrow
It comes and it goes
And somehow it knows
Where there’s joy to replace tomorrow

There’s a lot to be said about joy
It plays as you might with a toy
But quite often it’s fleeting
Just cause of the meeting
‘Tween you and one certain boy

There’s a lot to be said about life
And how it’s just one bowl of strife
It will smack you real hard
Then again it’s real hard
But people they say; ‘Hey that’s life!’

Good lord… I wish I could remember what I was whining about back in December 2000.
!!! Oh, wait, I do remember. Heh, that’s a whole other story, but if you’re curious… remind me and I’ll write a post about it. It’s an experience that I don’t think was tackled by any question in my 80 Post Challenge.