| Me · Cummings · Taylor |
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| Milosz · Dickinson · Whitman |
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| Me · Cummings · Taylor |
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| Milosz · Dickinson · Whitman |
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I had always hated poetry. I warmly embraced every other type of literature, making it an ineludible part of my life. I tried to love poetry, but I couldn't. It made no sense, it didn't hold my attention, and even worse, I couldn't write it. I still don't know if I didn't write it because I couldn't understand the idea behind poetry, or if I didn't understand the idea behind poetry because I couldn't write it, but nevertheless, both were true.
In eighth grade, my English class spent a long time on a wide and sweeping range of poetry. A few simple poets (Longfellow, Wood, Frost, even eventually Whitman) began to break through my stubborn psychological barrier. I felt like I was being violated somehow...I liked poetry, and it was way not Liz. But the unit was different, somehow...perhaps because we spent a long time on Whitman. Have any of you ever noticed that? That most school poetry units and textbooks completely exclude Uncle Walt? So what's wrong with him, now? I don't know. Maybe I've just seen Dead Poets Society ten too many times.
Anyway, on November 20, 1995, I wrote my first poem in the car on the way home from school. It was my grandmother's birthday, and she was the whole inspiration for the poem, too. How...um...poetic. This was an incredibly momentous event in my life (omigod what a geek), believe it or not. I never contemplated writing a poem. I never thought to myself, "Hrmm, this would make a nice poem." All I did was start thinking, in the car on the way home from school, about how a few days before my grandmother had been gazing dreamily over an old photo of herself when she was sixteen, envious of her own beauty. Then the sonic boom hit my head and all of a sudden there were words there — the right words. (And, oddly enough, for a long time my greatest inspirations came to me in the car... I don't understand the significance of that, but oh well...)
Anyway, since that day I've been rattling out bad poems and reading good ones. On these pages I have exhibited some of my very favorite poems, and a few of mine. I don't think I need to go into copyrights and all, now, do I? Each and every word on the web, previously published or not, is strictly © the respective author. Okee? As far as my writing goes, I do, of course, appreciate comments. I'm extremely sensitive about it, but also have very low confidence in it. So, then, I guess that would mean constructive criticism (why do I so loathe that term?) as well as compliments are encouraged. Thanks a lot.
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