Poetry terrifies me. It's not for the faint of heart or soul. The scariest part of last year's Blogathon was the Haiku day. Instead of facing my fear, I wimped out and asked Mom, a multi-published poet, to write it.
This past weekend, I attended a poetry reading lead by my cousin, Marty Silverthorne*. After he finished reading, someone asked him why he wrote poetry. He simply said, "Because I was good at it." He talked about trying to write a short story, but not being able to come up with the words. Yet, I feared poetry for the same reason.
I think the problem is how I define poetry: a specifically structured and obscure string of words meant to invoke great emotion and insight.
In reality, poetry is a "form of literary art that uses the aesthetic qualities of language to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, the prosaic ostensible meaning." Really, isn't all writing poetry? All writers manipulate words to evoke meaning and themes, and along the way find a rhythm and flow.
So this year, I will be tackling the haiku all by myself (look for it on May 21st). I promise to do my best not to sully the term poetry... too much.
For your amusement, I ran across three poems I had published in high school (I wrote them as part of a mandatory English assignment).
Finally meets the ground
Carrying the fallen
Dead leaves onward
The wind blows harshly
Hoping to wake the people
To the sun's first light
I told the Lord I want to go
Where I can still see lovely snow,
Hear the buzzing bees,
And smell the pine trees.
I will be without these below.
My favorite... Hell. Anyone who knows me or has read this blog for awhile knows I hate snow. The one upside to Hell for me would be the lack of snow.
Are you intimidated by poetry, either writing it or reading it?
* Marty's poetry has been featured on my blog before: A Family Steeped in Creative Arts and Celebrating the Ties that Bind.