Aside from my scholarly endeavors, I am also a writer at heart. Though much of my work is prosaic, I also write poetry from time to time. How I got into writing poetry is an interesting story. I’ve been writing for my whole life, but it was almost always short stories (barring a series of poems I wrote in Grade 8, which were…ah…not of high quality). Then, this summer, I took a writing course and one of the units was on poetry. I was dismayed. I did not believe I could write good poetry, I thought for sure I would fail the unit.
So, I decided to write and read as much poetry as I could get my hands on and try to improve. I went on a quest to better my skills. Some of the poets that really helped me understand the craft were Margaret Atwood, Walt Whitman, William Blake, and many more. I read and wrote and read and wrote. I though about poetry for two weeks straight. And in the end…my poetry still wasn’t great. But it was better! It was so much better. The moral of the story, if there needs to be one, is never to back down from a challenge. You can surprise yourself and you can always get better.
On a philosophical note, that’s the heart of what this blog is. A way to share my struggles to get better. A way to see my own progress and for people to get a glimpse of what one small person does with their time. The love, the life, and the endless struggle with position-time graphs.
And now I’ll just leave this poem here. More to come!
She has thighs like tree trunks,
Sturdy and strong.
No wind will blow her over.
And she draws people into her,
With her laughter and her strength.
And I am reeds, singing in the wind,
Telling other people’s tales.
Scrawny but tenacious,
Holding on to my patch of earth.
She is strong and silent,
with love carved into her branches.
And I am reeds,
singing she isn’t perfect.
But I wish,
Oh, how I wish it were me..