There was a time, long ago (at least that's how it seems), when I used to write poetry.
And I was told I was good...by published and popular poets, no less.
And then, life
happened. And I was too busy living it to write about it. Sometime, in the silence of the kitchen, with just the sizzle of sauteing vegetables in the background, the memories would come creeping back - of all those poetry workshops and those pages of poetry stashed away in some forgotten shelf. And I would wonder if I could even write poetry anymore, whether my mind was still unfettered and potent enough to put thoughts to words.
It was then that I came across this wonderful blog on writing (Thank you Google Reader...I love you!). It's called PoeWar.com, and written by a brilliant writer called John Hewitt. The most fascinating thing about his blog is the 30 Poems in 30 Days series. The writer gives the readers creative prompts, and also writes his own poem based on the prompt. And I tell you, the prompts are really innovative! It certainly helped shake up some very sleepy and demotivated gray cells in my upper chamber!! So, I took the plunge, and wrote some poems of my own. Whether I was any good, remains to be seen! Tell me what you think...
Here's the first one...
The pattern does not matter,
As long as it is how it is
To the very end.
Color in the dotted lines,
And be done with it.
You don’t have to replace spots with lines,
It is not normal, they said.
Just do it, follow the pattern.
Make it look like you know how,
Like your mother taught you right.
Follow the pattern,
And you’ll be alright.
--- Jane Hamilton
...and another one for good measure...
I have a secret,
A part of me I willingly forget.
Then I remember, and loathe it.
My secret festers,
Guilt buzzes around it in dark clouds,
Settling briefly on little white incidents that led to it -
The thing that I will not speak about.
Sometimes, it smells.
Intrudes the little tunnels that lead
To gray cells, and dark thoughts,
Every time I gasp for breath,
When a kind word is offered,
Kindness I don’t deserve.
I look away, “Look, there’s a nice spot!”
Walk away, hold hands with Happiness,
Cover the secret with a smile… Forget.
But, it wafts back, now and then,
To cloud a picture-perfect view,
With the Secret.
--- Jane Hamilton