Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Letting Go

Please, no, don't sing Frozen. That's not at ALL what I meant. I mean, really, we all know that fad passed quite a while ago.
Anywhooo...
I've gathered you here today to talk about poetry. Let me explain my reason for the title of this post:
For a long, long time, I've always focused solely on rhyming poetry. My mind told me, for some reason, that that was only the real poetry and everything else sucked. My mother, of course, didn't believe that. She is an English major who teaches a lot for my co-ops, and she absolutely loves poetry. Especially the non-metrical free verse stuff. In fact, she herself is a poet of the same type.
Yet in my stubbornness I refused to enjoy such poetry. I love writing, of course, and I really wanted to write poetry and be remembered as a great poet. But I had a lot of trouble writing it; they all were cheesy and quite awful, really.
Until I let go of my stubbornness.
Once I tried to write just a single little poem in a free verse form, a whole world was opened to me. I realized it was so sad I had been holding back all these years, because of a petty and foolish thought in my head. And suddenly, I realized that I could do incredible things.
Ever read E.E. Cummings? He's one of my mom's favorites, and he's known for his incredible free-verse that not only paints with words but also paints using the placement and form of the words and stanzas on the paper. He can make a little poem mean much, much more just by arranging it a certain way.
It's incredible.
Look his stuff up sometime. You won't regret it.
And for those of you who dislike poetry that isn't all rhyme-y and stuff, try to let go of that. Pick up a book of poetry, read it slowly, let the words wash over you. Or take a piece of paper and doodle with words, not worrying about what matches and what doesn't. Trust me. You'll thank me later.
I want to share with you some of my favorite personal poems I've written in free-verse. I really like looking back at them now, and I feel so proud, instead of embarrassed like how I always felt when I looked back at my older, metrical poems.
Remember, we're human. We're creative. Don't let your poetry be like "An Ode to Spot" by Data (TNG). That only works if you're actually an android.

A Time Ago I Spoke with the Winds

A time ago I spoke with the winds.

There was first Boreas,
fierce and cold.
His words were harsh,
his nature unforgiving.

Then Notos,
hungry for chaos.
Everywhere he went,
disorder arose.

Eureus, the poor east wind.
Unlucky, shy,
and disliked.
I think him quite misunderstood.

But my favorite, that is Zephyr.
The west wind,
warm and soft.
Esteemed above the others.
His embrace, his touch,
spring and summer's love.


The Importance of a Soul

The soul, the Psyche,
no greater invention of God.
For it holds the key,
the entrance to one's being.
What would we be
without a soul?
A shell, perhaps.
Living, animated,
but meaningless.
Or a carved marble man.
Beautiful, lifelike,
and yet, not
more than stone.


Welll, I hope you like the poems...yes, originals of mine ;)

Feel free to comment thoughts!

Picard out.