Today is the first day of National Poetry Month, that wonderful month where poetry lovers and writers share and celebrate the joy of writing and reading poetry. For the past few years I have been writing and sharing an original poem a day on my blog as my way of joining in the celebration. I had big plans for this year’s participation, actually several versions of several plans, but midway through today I decided to hoist the white flag and release myself from the idea. We currently have our house on the market and are selling it ourselves which pretty much means my life is turned upside and shaken all around while keeping me in limbo all at the same time. Not a situation designed to bring out my creative best.
But then, as soon as I told myself I wasn’t going to do a poem a day I wanted to beat my head against a proverbial wall because that’s what overachieving perfectionist people do when they realize they are not going to be able to accomplish something as planned. Luckily common sense (and some Zoey kisses) kicked in before then and I was able to calm myself down and relax (mostly) about the idea. There’s always a war between rational and irrational thought going in my head when I make this sort of a decision. It goes something like this.
Real poets write every day. If you were a real poet, you’d honor that emotional commitment you made and get that poem a day written.
Sure, you could write a poem a day for a few days and then what happens if you house sells and suddenly your life is turned even more while you try to find a new place and then you have to get ready to move and don’t forget the Zoey factor in all of this. You’re already stressed out and not sleeping. You want to pile even more stress on yourself? So not a good idea.
I thought you were going to write poems about this house, use it as a way to say goodbye? Make peace with leaving.
I’m ready to leave now. I don’t need to make peace with leaving I just want the house to sell so we can move and I can get out of limbo land.
Don’t you want to record the memories of living here? I thought you loved this house, this garden.
I have lots of notes about living here. I have a Scrivener file full of poem ideas about this house and all the things that have happened to us while we have been here. It’s just that I don’t want to write about it while I am still here. I can’t. I’m like Hemingway in A Moveable Feast, when he said, “Maybe away from Paris I could write about Paris as in Paris I could write about Michigan.” When I am not in this house, then I can write about this house, this garden, this life we built here.
A real poet would suffer for her art.
Horse-feathers! (or your expletive of choice)
Not writing a poem a day this month does not mean I am not a real poet. It just means that right now I am choosing to take care of my mental health first. I found that as soon as I waved the white flag about a daily poetry push that I wanted to open my current work-in-progress, a young adult novel in verse, and get back to work. So perhaps this freedom I am giving myself is bringing me another gift, a door that opens, a path that leads me back to finishing the story about two sisters and their lives and the choices they make.
There are lots of people doing daily activities to celebrate National Poetry Month and the always awesome Jama Rattigan has rounded many of them up here.
And if you want to read some of my own original poems from previous years, here are some links to a couple of my favorites: In 2010, I wrote a poem a day about the father I never knew and in 2012 I wrote about how you could Kick the Poetry Can’ts with easy poetry exercises to get you started.
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Anyone whose expletive of choice is “Horse-feathers!” is DEFINITELY a real poet!!!
Oh thank you, Janet! It was a fierce battle in my head for a while. I do feel more like a poet than not, so I guess that’s something. And I REALLY want to finish this current novel-in-verse. Then I want to learn how to find more places and more anthologies to submit individual poems. I am so proud to be a part of the Poetry Friday Anthologies.
You’re really getting this “shutting the inner devil up” business down. Good for you! I can remember a time when you wouldn’t have been able to cuss at it.
Thank you, Peni! Yes, I have come a long, long way. It feels good. It helps to be in a safe and supportive and loving environment. And I really do think certain things get easier as we get older, such as choosing ourselves and our own work.
Susan,
I am right there with you! Every year I want to do a project for Poetry Month, but then I get so overwhelmed with school that I feel guilty having to choose between my two passions: teaching and writing. While I’m not officially participating with blog posts, I am doing a mini-project on my own.
I’ve also struggled with the question, “Am I real poet if I can’t write every day?” Self-doubt has always been a challenge, and I really don’t know the answer to that question. I do know that I love poetry and it fits my personality.
You, my friend are a real poet. Just look at all you have accomplished!
Linda
It’s always a tough balancing act, isn’t it, Linda? And we women are so pre-wired to feel guilty about it all. Enough already. We do SO much! It is okay to not do it all. I’m glad you’re doing a mini project of your own. That’s the way I am looking at my novel-in-verse, though not a mini project, it is still poetry. I’m just not sharing it.
Not that you need my validation here, Susan, but I always think it’s best to put one’s emotional health before plans, commitments, etc. Good for you on taking care of yourself.
You are a poet, this month, and always.
Don’t be so hard on yourself. You are an excellent poet regardless of when you sit down to write. And don’t let the everyday burdens rob you of a good time. I’m glad you were able to be reflective about it and come out of it confident in your decision and your persona.
There is no such thing as the Poetry Police. 😉
Jenn, I think I forgot to tell you thank you for telling me there was no such thing as the Poetry Police! 🙂 Life went wham bam so fast! We sold the house. We moved out. We are in chaos but it is good.
Congrats to you for the shout-out in Beth Kephart’s blog.
Good luck with selling your house! It is a hugely stressful activity, and not adding any other big timed projects on top of that is just smart, imo. Might as well just let your muse inspire you for now instead of pushing!
LIGHTHOUSE
Here it sit
One a bed of glory
Surrounded by
Natures true beauty
Heralding in the day
With peace and serenity
Calm is the sea
Bright is the sky
Life’s worries melt away
For all eternity
– Anne McKenna
This is lovely, Anne. Really lovely. Thank you for sharing.
EMPTY INSIDE
I have to do something
Life is consuming me
Turning me into a person
I really don’t want to be
A product of anger
Loneliness and fear
Always been the same
That much is clear
For can my life change
It is not set in stone
Am I ever really
Completely alone
Unless I build a wall
Let nobody inside
Then there will come a day
When there is nowhere to hide
I feel that day has come
I feel empty inside
There is nobody around
In whom I can confide
Should I openly grieve
For a life I never had
Or just get on with it
continue being mad
I can no longer pretend
I want to shout out loud
Please somebody help me
Free me from this cloud
This thick black fog engulfing me
Right to my very core
Literally sucking life from me
So I will never be free once more
I am walking around in a daze
I surrender concede defeat
Living in a world of hope
Where I can never compete
Living is for the strong
That which I am not
Feeling I am the one
Simply that time forgot
– Anne McKenna
Another great poem, Anne. Your writing is realy growing stronger and stronger.
But NEVER give up.