I’ve been reading a lot of my fellow blogging student’s poetry lately but until today I had yet to put any of my own poetry out there. So today I did. I posted the one poem I’ve written (actually, it more fell out of me, than was written) in the last ten years. God – has it really be that long?
I put that poem out there because well, it was the newest poem I’ve written (three months ago) and almost no one has ever read it. And because since I’m reading other’s poetry, I think it behooves me to share mine. Putting work out for all to see involves a certain amount of vulnerability, and I don’t want to shirk that.
I still have hard copies of my poetry from years ago but that work I’m not going to share because that was then. It’s old. I, myself, don’t want to read it. I know what it is, I had the pleasure of writing and sharing it back then, and now I’m moving on to writing and sharing new poetry, not offering up stale-to-me work off as fresh.
Since the act of writing poetry involves, for me, going deep, and being quiet but alert though not thinking (at least for the first draft.), I wonder: have I really only been in that state once in the last ten years? I’m hoping not. I’m hoping that since I was in a poetry class (that I had to withdraw from after the first class because of scheduling issues)when I wrote that poem, my inner poet woke up and started talking. And will again.