i am not a poet. but i have, of late, been musing (chiefly on napkins, as well it should be) about poetry.
i’ve come up with this:
1.) one should never be a poet first. i think poetry must always be born out of the struggle to make time to write poems, and can never be achieved from having oodles of time to sit and deliberate.
2.) on that same thread, never sit down with the intention to write a poem. the blankness of a notebook staring back will instantly shock any real inspiration from your mind.
3.) an altered state of mind is beneficial, but not necessary, and should not be viewed as such. you can make poetry sober, but you don’t have to.
4.) trying to fit your mind inside fourteen lines, or nineteen syllables, or even words which arbitrarily end in allophones is like trying to use a cookie-cutter to make shape a puddle of juice. to get it to fit, it has to congeal. and jello is not the same as juice.
5.) playing tennis without a net works just fine for a lot of impoverished kids, mr. frost. sometimes, you have to make due. and the human mind is surprisingly poor. so write poems however they sound good to you.
6.) never be confident in your own poetry, because you can’t be sure it’s worthy. and there is not much that is sadder than someone presenting a poem steeped in pride, yet lacking in anything else.
7.) poetry and song are the same. these rules apply to lyrics, though not specifically to music.
8.) don’t even consider writing a poem about something you haven’t felt. you’ll be so transparent that your bones will freeze.
9.) on the other hand, limit yourself to the number of poems to be written about one emotion or encounter that you have felt. you can tap it dry, and then, it’s the same as falsifying in the first place.
10.) you may embellish, a little. it is poetry, after all.
in other news, yes i’ve got a new job.
yes, i’ve already been recognized for working there.
yes, i’m painfully lonely and i haven’t even moved out yet.
yes, i’m having an identity crisis.
xoxo me
