So I have published some poetry on here, but poetry was not my first choice of writing genres. Prior to taking courses at the college level, I have always focused on novel length stories. While I am glad that I have learned to branch out and try new things, the novel is my love (especially in the sci-fi/fantasy genre). Here is an opening excerpt for a novel I am currently working on. And when I say opening excerpt I mean the only section I have even begun writing on.
On that thought, I always say I am working on something and will work on it more when I am done with school. Yet, school never seems to end. Procrastination might be my middle name!
Here is Death’s Hand (Or the tiny bit I have so far):
Continue reading Work In Progress: Death’s Hand
Craft is important when it comes to writing in any form. How do you learn your own craft? You learn from practice, editing, peer reviews, and reading other poetry. Honing your craft is a lifetime experience. Below is a poem I have written. Following it are the original poem and edits of the poem. Each has a craft talk section to tell you changes that were made, but more importantly, why the changes were made. I hope this helps!
Continue reading Craft Talk: From My Hospital Bed, I Remember…
It is a bright dreary morning here in Puyallup and it made me think about a poem I started but have not worked on in a while. One thing that can bring a deeper thought into a poem is using the opposite of what you normally would say.
Normally you hear: It is a bright beautiful morning. Now with the bright dreary morning I used, as a reader, did it make you stop and go “hmmm?” If you are from this area of Washington, you might have laughed because you know what I am talking about!
Take the few lines in the poem I have so far. There is no title other than Crickets Caw but that may change:
Your arms cloak my heart
as the cricket caws under moonlit sun.
My heart cannonballs along.
Prepare, compare, beware
cat plays in water that turns to sand.
Arms can’t cloak a heart! Crickets don’t caw. Cats playing in water? What world is this? How does water turn into sand? Obviously, you may need more of a poem to go on to decipher why I am using such opposites. For now, you will just have to trust I have a point–even if I am still unsure of that point!
Part of poetry writing is just free writing. Have fun. See where it takes you. Try new things! Try opposites!
No wings, unable to fly
sparrow runs through country side
winding roads going no where
full of pungent rose filled air
memories escape rapid out through
a mind gone dormant with no clue
sparrow’s wings once soared
past mountains of vast galore
words clipped colorful feathers
allowing them to grow again never
grimy strong sticky tar
those hateful words are never far
sparrow tries to flap wingless arms
the wings, her feathers kept her from harm
instead she curls next to the road
and waits for her little heart to explode.