Poetry: the expectations vs. reality has blown my life to bits. As a kid, I dreamed of being the complicated heroine I adored in my books. Spending hours reading and writing my own stories full of monsters and the maybe-good-maybe-not people who’d either side with a monster or kill them with a flip of a coin. Poetry never crossed my mind. Like I’ve said before, I thought it was some high-brow antiquated form of writing that was beyond my ability to understand.
From Novels to Poetry: How Expectations Changed with Reality
But I didn’t realize then that words had something else to give, that poetry would consume me and enliven my soul. Now, I gladly spend my nights pouring myself an ice-cold glass of gin so I can loosen my brain just enough to untwist the words I’ve wrung in my mind all day, hoping that if I do, a poem will tumble out like a rockslide down a mountain.
Poetry: expectations vs. reality? It dropped into my life more than a decade ago and made it even more hellish.
Read some of my poetry HERE.
Growing Up to Find Out I’m a Poet
As I got older, I still lost myself in books. Flipping back and forth between Majors in College, I was torn between music, art, and writing. The words won me over, but honestly, I think I’d still have an unhealthy obsession if I’d chosen one of the other two. And they both still thrive, resurfacing when I get the itch to express in a different medium.
But soon, the expectations I had about what I was going to do would come crashing down thanks to reality.
I used to be a kid haunted by ghost stories, urban myths, and monsters I reckoned were just undiscovered species. Naturally drawn to the darker elements, I found myself enthralled with creatures that represented so much more than just embodied nightmares; they represented society’s fears and tensions between ideologies of the repressors and the oppressed.
Now, I’m haunted by poetry, words, and the invisible threads of communication between us that make life richer and sometimes disastrous.
How Does This Relate to Poetry and My Expectations vs. Reality?
As a poet and writer who’s dabbled in everything from short creative non-fiction to writing a full-length novel, I’ve realized that my expectations were never going to match reality. It was never going to be straightforward.
I thought if I was going to be a writer, I’d either only write short stories or only write novels. I was confused when reality hit, and I knew I was also a poet.
Can I be a poet, too, on top of it all? Why not?
Why not write whatever I want and play with words inside and outside genres and forms. That’s what art is in the end; playing with tools that either create or destroy, wondering if something slightly different will slink out of the water. And sometimes fashioning your own tools that spin the bottle on its head.
Interested in browsing my blog posts about fiction writing? Go HERE.
Poetry: Expectation vs. Reality
I never thought I’d like poetry, and it never crossed my mind that someday I’d be a poet.
The Reality of Being a Poet
I’m neck-deep in poetry books and obsessed with forms. I’ve acquired too many notebooks full of collected phrases and odd words. They glow on the pages like carefully collected paint samples, glossy and matte, in thousands of different shades just waiting to be chosen.
I can’t wait to try new words and create a fresh or dark vision from the scraps I’ve collected over time. Dictionaries and thesauruses have become troves of tools. I can’t get enough of discovering a new symbol that holds a piece of human experience, ready to be reconfigured into a unique mosaic of form and meaning.
Takeaway: I guess life is pretty surprising (when you find out you’re a poet).
Poetry has taught me that words are the most powerful tools on the planet. They can help create civilizations and destroy them. They can connect people and be used as weapons to harm and kill. Following the roots, to write poetry is to be human, to desire a connection with others over shared experiences. To feel the bright burn of emotions and thrive in them.
Poetry: Expectations Dashed by Reality
I’m still not sure sometimes if I can hold my grasp on poetry and if I can keep creating and playing with words with the same fervor that I’ve had for more than ten years. But that’s okay. Because it’s not supposed to be simple or easy; it’s poetry.
Find me elsewhere ? or learn How to Come Up With Ideas for Poems in 3 Easy Ways!
