30 Poems in 30 Days 2009: Day Nine
September 9, 2009 by John Hewitt
I write poetry because I enjoy it. Not all of my poems are good and a few are downright awful, but once in a while I write something that satisfies me. I am not a refined poet. Anyone who reads my work can see that I don’t spend hours polishing my poetry. If I finish a poem and I find I still have time on my hands, I’m far more likely to write another poem than edit my last poem. Alexander Pope would almost certainly despise me. I accept that.
I like to share my poems, but I don’t write to please an audience. I write because I have something to say, and it feels good to write. I read poetry for the same basic reasons, because I enjoy it. I especially enjoy it when I read a poem and I feel like it connects with me and says something that matters to me. Most of the poets I like are autobiographical and honest to the point of embarrassment. They are also concrete.
These are my preferences, but they are far from universal. There are poets who would rather write pastoral scenes and create beauty. I understand the need and I know there are people who want to read their work. That’s a good thing. There is no one best poet or one best kind of poetry. If anything, poetry is the most malleable form of writing there is. There are far more hard and fast rules for fiction than there are for poetry.
Embrace the styles that you are comfortable writing in, and read the types of poetry that appeal to you. There are very few people getting rich or even making a living from writing poetry. A poet who can find five thousand buyers for a book is wildly successful, but still not making a living. That is the reality of poetry. It is a small world that is open to all. Find your niche and be happy writing in it. Write for the enjoyment of writing.
Today’s Poetry Prompt
Use the word “secret” twice in your poem.
Disappeared
Every week they took away something
The coffee machine
The ice maker
The health plan
Profit sharing
I wore a tie to ward off evil spirits
Buttoned all of my buttons
Stopped having casual conversations
Kept my opinions secret on a sheet of paper
I threw out at the end of the day
Just happy to have expressed them somewhere
But secrets have never been my strength
I could tear down the cynical sayings
And the silly cartoons
I could repeat the company slogans
And paste them on my walls
But in the end I would always be me
And eventually I disappeared
They told no one my fate
People were left to infer
To ask
To realize that one more thing
Had been taken away
And more would follow
Every week
Something else
Gone
Related links
- 30 Poems in 30 Days (1.000)
- 30 Poems in 30 Days: Why you should write poetry (1.000)
- 30 Poems in 30 Days: Writing About Yourself (1.000)
- 30 Poems in 30 Days: Writing About Issues (1.000)
- 30 Poems in 30 Days: Poetry of Place (1.000)
Contact John Hewitt
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Email: hewitt@poewar.comPhone: (520) 261-6104
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Wow, I wrote 2 poems on the same day. What an achievement…
A Little Secret
I have a little secret:
I don’t like my friend
Not that I really loath her
But we’re just not the same
See, I don’t like to chase boys
And I also don’t blog
But she has so many exes
And a rather thriving blog
I don’t have an idea
How we became this way
I think it’s all a mistake
That’s all that I can say
So that’s my little secret:
That I don’t like my friend
We’re just way too different
This friendship’s destined to end.
John,
A few things. I find it impossible to access 2008’s 30 days of poetry topics. I can read 2007’s 30 days, and they were wonderful, and very sitructional. 2008, if memory serves me correctly, were also fairly instrucitonal. Please understand that I am not knocking this year’s prompts. I rather enjoy the challenge in whatever form it takes. It just seems that this year, you are less instructional in your topics and prompts. Take it as an observation.
Now, to the assignment. I chose to write some Blues. (this guarantees the repetition of the work secret)
I Ain’t Within Your Heart (blues)
I heard my babe’s been having secret love.
Oh, yes, I heard she’s having secret love.
It hurts to think she someone else’s love.
Oh, baby tell me this is just a lie!
Please, baby tell me this is just a lie!
I can not face it, if it weren’t a lie.
Your silence tears apart my bleeding heart.
Oh babe, your silence tears apart my heart.
Because it says I ain’t within your heart
Oh babe, I gave you all I had to give.
Oh yes, I gave you all I had to give.
But if it’s not enough, what can I give?
Please come and tell me you’ll be mine alone.
Oh, babe please tell me you’ll be mine alone.
I promise to be true to you and you alone.
Oh babe, your silence tears apart my heart.
Your silence tears apart my bleeding heart.
Because it says I ain’t within your heart
James,
I have created a new post with links to the past two years of articles. I hope that helps.
John
@John
Thanks.
Does not matter
I have a little secret
That I dare not say
Especially not to you
Who would only be amused
Or worst
Be condescending
About the banality
Of it in the great scheme
Of life where you
Have so many
Bigger secrets that are
Evidently secretive if only to
Justify the highly confidential
Stamped all over them
So obviously my little
Tiny secret
That I will be leaving
You
Does not matter
Does it?
A Soft Way
She has a soft way of talking.
You have to lean in,
Heads close as if sharing a secret –
An appearance of intimacy
As false as it’s immediate.
In these almost-whispers
You receive the material moments
Of her life. “My toes hurt today.”
“I think I’m catching a cold.”
“Mrs Brown went out this morning.”
The secret is to pat her hand,
To nod and murmur while tucking
The blankets closer around her,
Or combing her fragile hair.
Perhaps she imagines you are her mother,
Or her daughter who so seldom comes.
(Note: Woulda put the quotes in italics instead, if I could have. More like almost-whispers.)