| | For me, poetry is all about freedom. A man shackled to distractions is
hard put to write verse of any notable merit. Rather, the mind must be
free to explore and discover itself in new ways. This idea used to
huddle in the corner of my mind, but recently I have all but forgotten
the true meaning of poetry (sorry if this sounds like common sense to
the rest of you). One of my biggest realizations is that poetry should
not be riddled with thoughts of how it should present itself. Thoughts
should not be altered to fit the rhythm; ideas should not change
according to flow. A poem holds the entire individuality of a thought,
and should thus lend its aesthetic characteristics to the overwhelming
dominance of free thought. This is what poetry is, and this is what I
cannot do.
Let's face it; my poetry is temporal, unyielding stuff. A graph of my
poetic quality depending on time would certainly resemble the garish
descent of Aunt Bertha's angular nose. (I'm quite sure you have an Aunt
Bertha, as I am informed everyone does. You know who I'm talking
about.) Really, I am in desperate need of a poetic rebirth. My hands
need to be washed of their falsely-based pride, cliches, and 30-word
vocabularies. No longer should I struggle with every word, only to
discover my inevitable defeat. My mind must be renewed somehow in order
to attain that sought-after freedom of thought.
Yes, freedom of thought is what I need. But how can I be free when I
have deadlines, obligations, and responsibilities? Come now, I am a
fourteen-year-old with an obsessive-compulsive personality, a newly
fired-up love for playing guitar, an academic schedule, and a social
schedule. Where can I find time to empty my mind and explore my
thoughts? I honestly don't know, but I probably won't be writing much
more until I can find a new inspiration.
I guess I'm taking a gamble. If I lose, I am dropping poetry; if I win,
I am going to write poetry with meaning. I am no longer satisfied with
lukewarm words regarded with empty praise. If another poem unfolds from
my pen, it will be something with soul--dare I say a masterpiece.
I suppose that can be called a new year's resolution.
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| | Posted 12/31/2005 7:00 PM - 1 view - 1 comments
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