Poetry
I love that i write poetry. When i was in the nineth grade i had the best english teacher. Young, new to teaching. Positive. Open minded. and encouraging. She encouraged me to pay more attention to my writing. Especially my poetry. I can't tell you how much that meant to me at that time. A geeky out of proportion teenager. Shy, unfamiliar with social skills. It was a wonderful outlet. Besides my drawing of course. We didn't talk much outside of the classroom. But she made me realize that i had words inside of me. that needed to be put out there. In a way i never quite did before.
Such started my quest to find words that were concise, and descriptive. i have always been someone that likes to get to the point quickly. I see things as images and poetry seems to be the best way to portray that. In my sophmore year of high school, she suggested me for accelerated english classes. So i took the plunge. Imagine if you will, a progressive teacher. young exciting, not from our small town. Open to all possibilities. Now lets take into account my sophmore accelerated english teacher.
This woman had more hairspray on her hair than i had ever seen. Helmet head. And the one story i will tell you from that horrible year, we had to do an essay on an american author. I had already been reading Ayn Rand. Totally enthralled. Couldn't put it down. So when it came time to choose one, guess who i decided on!? Yea barrier breaking eccentric Rand. My teacher tells me, you wouldn't be able to understand her! WTF!!!!! I was already through the Fountainhead. So into the characters. And she says, I am assigning you Faulkner! OMG! FAULKNER! drunken sod. Damn my insecurities. Why didn't I stand up for myself? Why didnt I say to the silly baptist laden conservative nobody that I would probably have more insight to Rands words than she ever would with her low end education? A fool. A shy insecure little girl. Who didn't know how to stand up for herself. Damn the eductation system. For me then. Now i write.
Poetry saves my soul. It says things i can understand. Words in bites of images. The combination of the incongrous, and the tactal. Taking away the superflous. I can write you a day. a moment. even a second in phrases and lyrics. Its what i like. Its a ladder to my emotions...and makes me climb. Higher higher to a different level. Taking pictures to describe later to my lovely world of readers.
more poetry soon. just wanted you to know that is how this little corner of the world operates. :winks:
Such started my quest to find words that were concise, and descriptive. i have always been someone that likes to get to the point quickly. I see things as images and poetry seems to be the best way to portray that. In my sophmore year of high school, she suggested me for accelerated english classes. So i took the plunge. Imagine if you will, a progressive teacher. young exciting, not from our small town. Open to all possibilities. Now lets take into account my sophmore accelerated english teacher.
This woman had more hairspray on her hair than i had ever seen. Helmet head. And the one story i will tell you from that horrible year, we had to do an essay on an american author. I had already been reading Ayn Rand. Totally enthralled. Couldn't put it down. So when it came time to choose one, guess who i decided on!? Yea barrier breaking eccentric Rand. My teacher tells me, you wouldn't be able to understand her! WTF!!!!! I was already through the Fountainhead. So into the characters. And she says, I am assigning you Faulkner! OMG! FAULKNER! drunken sod. Damn my insecurities. Why didn't I stand up for myself? Why didnt I say to the silly baptist laden conservative nobody that I would probably have more insight to Rands words than she ever would with her low end education? A fool. A shy insecure little girl. Who didn't know how to stand up for herself. Damn the eductation system. For me then. Now i write.
Poetry saves my soul. It says things i can understand. Words in bites of images. The combination of the incongrous, and the tactal. Taking away the superflous. I can write you a day. a moment. even a second in phrases and lyrics. Its what i like. Its a ladder to my emotions...and makes me climb. Higher higher to a different level. Taking pictures to describe later to my lovely world of readers.
more poetry soon. just wanted you to know that is how this little corner of the world operates. :winks:
Comments
don' wanna' be a silly baptist laden conservative...ever!
....count me as so very glad you stuck with the poetry!
And I love people who "get it"! :)
My poor hubby can not understand, for the life of him, how I can read a poem and just weep from the beauty of it...words that cut right through to the heart of me in 4 to 8 lines...
Render me to mush in a matter of seconds, because I UNDERSTAND in a moment what might have taken a lifetime to grasp otherwise.
Your poems are beautiful.
Thank you for sharing them when you do! :)
-Cora :)
I have other friends who've recommended Rand...gotta check that out sometime.
Poetry is very therapeutic for me, and usually just channels right through from the Muses.
If we silly human ever truly have magic within us it is through the words that we pull it out and share it with the world.
It is a joy to read a new poem.
Stu