I’M VERY INTERESTED IN THE TOPIC OF WHY/HOW OTHER POEMWRITERS BEGIN A New POEM.
HERE’s THE SCENARIO FOR ME:
• I talk to myself out loud A LOT sometimes, especially since I’m not disturbing anyone. Eventually… it might take a while, but not usually… I actually hear myself saying something (possibly THINKING; it’s become difficult to distinguish)
• So impossibly CLEVER, PROFOUND, or CUTE,
• I’m forced to stop EVERYTHING to find the iPhone12 Mini in my hand
• To open the Notes or the WordPress app and whip up and out a poem. Cooking times vary like my moods,
wildly (or “VERY vary!).
<<Side Note: Once I start a poem, only a Tsunami or an Earthquake could stop me, and even then, I doubt it! I wish I was this industrious about opening my mail and paying my bills! Apologies for the “Aside.” Is it technically an “Aside” or a “Tangent”? Input appreciated.>>
• Regardless of the APP, I first post it here. Immediately.
• I never “sleep on it,” ask someone else to review it, or even read it to my dog first, having fully admitted to my Frequent Aloneness and difficulty Delaying Gratification (which, admit it, is an UNFORTUNATE combination!).
• Anyway, my Childlike Enthusiasm and Reckless Impulsiveness lead to MULTIPLE revisions, down to the semicolon – ESPECIALLY the semicolons – until I’m finally satisfied and everyone’s already read it. Even so, once I’m happy, I like to go back to admire my handiwork;
• Too frequently, probably.
Though maybe there’s no such thing as “too frequently” when it comes to visiting your kids?
4 thoughts on “WHY WRITE A POEM?”
“Wires hang me from lines like concubines” hang, hang, hang, I meant hang (: proof reading is fundamental…lol
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I have been there, STOP, STOP, STOP, NOT NOW BUT RIGHT NOW AND WRITE IT DOWN BEFORE IT ESCAPES.
The intro is the most important to me if it’s gonna grab me. I’ve written many pieces but my most profound intro was…” Wires hand me from lines like concubines” BOOM AND I WAS OFF!!!
Great thoughts you have here ❤
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Thank you so much. I REALLY enjoy talking about these kinds of things. I guess it’s Nearly-Invisible Market Researcher I used to be; my mental muscle memory longs to conduct another focus group!