An Introduction: Poetry in My Life
Where I’m from I’m the Queen of Impromptu Poetry. That doesn’t mean I have any actual talent in the art, but I do love to dabble. An example: For one very special friend of mine, I have made a tradition of writing her a poem for her birthday for the past few years. Most of them were pretty awful, but I have been proud of a couple poems written for her. Besides the on-the-spot poetry that I do, I also work hard on less silly writings, too. Like every undiscovered bard I, too, have my collection of long forgotten poems and suffer from the same infuriating blocks. Heck, the last time I had writer’s block it lasted nearly a year!
With every poem that I write, I poke fun at myself, whether it be at my form, the subject, or how it fits into my life. Some might classify my actions as modesty; typical teenage angst; or atypical teenage angst. Whatever the diagnosis, my reactions don’t vary. I still cringe at the sight of what I write, my heart rate still picks up whenever I catch someone reading my work, and I still deny how much work I put into poetry. But how do I not? At the risk that someone should laugh at what part of myself I’ve left on the page? Thanks, but no thanks. That’s why I fashion limericks from the oddest moments in life, threading them together in my jester-like ways. It fits so perfectly with the persona that I’ve created for myself that it is completely believable that I make only crude, clowny poems. That’s fine. But I only hope with what people read in my silly little creations, they might be able to take what else I write seriously, should I ever share with them.
Every “serious” poem I still have has very little in the depth department when compared to the Greats. I’m not saying they’re not enjoyable, or good, just not great. With that said I hope you can appreciate the poems I am leaving below:
A poem for a dear friend:
Dear friend, you are a cat
A fierce yet lovely brat
Though you may hiss spray
And cause much dismay
Everybody loves you, twat.
One for a loved one’s birthday:
For you, my dear,
Are a true cherished friend.
So today I say we have beer,
A friendship with no end,
And may we have many a cheer.
And a sonnet that took me the longest time to write:
Separation at its best serves disdain,
Abandonment, contempt, and betrayal.
Feeling as though we will somehow uncoil
Others attempt to unlink us in vain
But we’ll overcome that, for they’re insane!
The negativity does leave me stale
For it leaves me sensitive, but not frail.
So I shall fight ’til their feelings are slain
But have them understand our affection.
We shall siphon off the dread that was brought
For our hearts will prove utter devotion.
Unweaved the threads be, unpulling lips taut,
Gently eyes be less sharp and so soften
As dream’s merriment no longer be naught.