Sometimes I wonder if poems find us more than we write them. this one arrived like a confession I didn't know I needed to make. Your words remind me why I had to let it exist exactly as it emerged, no ornaments, no hiding
I understand. For me, the beginning was mobbing. It was a real mess of emotions. At some point I sat in bed and wrote words everywhere. The beat makes the music or the different rhymes. I still have to learn that.
I love this, but I did wonder if the stanza "I know you think poetry lives / in books with gold spines / but you are wrong" maybe overlabours the point, and is less powerful/beautiful than the rest of the poem - though perhaps that's the point.
John, thanks for giving the poem a close read and for speaking up!
The gold spine bit is meant as a little jolt, my way of saying poetry doesn’t stay locked in fancy books, but if it bumps you out of the flow, thats worth me rethinking
Thanks again for the honest glimpse of your reading experience; it’s a gift
Yeah, no I understood, I just found the rest of the poem very powerful and that bit not so much (or maybe a little obvious), but obviously it's just my subjective opinion/reaction (and it was meant constructively, as I'm glad you understood)!
Yes, sit with it. Let it turn you inside out. That's what poems do, they show us we've been wearing ourselves backwards this whole time. Your pockets were never empty. They were full of unwritten verses, waiting for you to notice them
There is nothing too cheesy, nothing too lengthy, just something special.
Sometimes I wonder if poems find us more than we write them. this one arrived like a confession I didn't know I needed to make. Your words remind me why I had to let it exist exactly as it emerged, no ornaments, no hiding
I understand. For me, the beginning was mobbing. It was a real mess of emotions. At some point I sat in bed and wrote words everywhere. The beat makes the music or the different rhymes. I still have to learn that.
I love this, but I did wonder if the stanza "I know you think poetry lives / in books with gold spines / but you are wrong" maybe overlabours the point, and is less powerful/beautiful than the rest of the poem - though perhaps that's the point.
John, thanks for giving the poem a close read and for speaking up!
The gold spine bit is meant as a little jolt, my way of saying poetry doesn’t stay locked in fancy books, but if it bumps you out of the flow, thats worth me rethinking
Thanks again for the honest glimpse of your reading experience; it’s a gift
Really appreciate the nudge
Yeah, no I understood, I just found the rest of the poem very powerful and that bit not so much (or maybe a little obvious), but obviously it's just my subjective opinion/reaction (and it was meant constructively, as I'm glad you understood)!
great poem
breathtaking
This turned me inside out and shook all my pockets empty. I need to sit with this for approximately forever
Yes, sit with it. Let it turn you inside out. That's what poems do, they show us we've been wearing ourselves backwards this whole time. Your pockets were never empty. They were full of unwritten verses, waiting for you to notice them
why did no one ever tell me that living IS the rough draft
Nobody told you because we were all too busy looking for the final draft, thinking it existed somewhere outside ourselves.
But you're right, every day we wake up, we're revising
Lovely 💜
Thank you, Sometimes the smallest words carry the most weight