I forgot how much I needed this, writing, that is.
I went into this week’s challenge with two distinct mindsets: A) This is going to be absolutely horrible and embarrassing and B) I need this, who gives a shit if I can’t write right now!
You see, poetry and I have an interesting relationship. I went to college with the idea that I wanted to be a novelist, not a poet. After taking two poetry courses, I found that I like the genre and that I’m not completely incapable of writing it. However, I’m usually not one of those people who just “spouts” poetry. You won’t find me lounging under the stars with a bottle of wine and spewing out romantic observations of the infinite beauty of the universe. That’s just not who I am – I’m too analytical and gritty for that nonsense.
In class, writing poetry is easy. It doesn’t really come from me. The professor gives me a topic. I give her a few stanzas, keeping everything clear, concise, and comprehensible. Most of the time, I play it safe. For me, each piece I write (however detached I think I am from it) contains a little piece of my soul, and sometimes I really don’t want academia dissecting it.
The exception to my cautious-ness came in the form of a “choice” poem (aka – no topic, do whatever the hell you want). I paced the floor for hours, trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to say. To me, writing (and all art) needs to have a purpose, needs to do something – either for the artist, the audience, or the world. So there I was, bitching about my lack of freedom and simultaneously incapable of doing anything with it.
I got mad at myself. And in typical fashion, I thought about writers and lyricists that inspire me. All of my favorite writers have a very important aspect in common: they all take a position or a piece of themselves and wrap it up in a metaphor, one that relates to everyone, but that very few people fully understand (as far as the writer’s intention is concerned).
So that’s what I did then, and I loved the result. Not only did I like the poem, but I liked how it made me feel to write it – inspired, empowered, and happy. Therefore, when my world came crashing down a little over a week ago, I decided to check myself into creative rehab for a week. Some of these poems are the metaphors I love. Some are extremely literal. But each one taught me something about myself, and each one contains a little piece of me.
In case you’ve been in the dark, here are the results of my challenge:
- Wednesday – A Poem about Loss and Friendship
- Thursday – I Am Emma Bovary
- Friday – Pet Peeves
- Saturday – The Problem with Society
- Sunday – Perception
- Monday – Oasis
- Tuesday – If I Am the Ocean