Options for poem-posting are getting somewhat thin. I've already posted all the ones I readily (or fairly readily) share. Now it's harder; I have to make these decisions.
Do I take a break from posting poems until the weather gets crispier and I can justify posting something like "A Lament for Lost Leaves"? Do I dig out some old stuff to share? Do I make up my mind to share the I'm-not-sure-I-want-to-share-that pieces? Do I heave a deep sigh, dig out a journal, and go about revising the unfinshed scraps of little poem embryos that haven't yet seen the light of day? Ug.
Something in me wants to complete those raw thoughts, but that something feels haggled and crushed by various other commitments. And deep down, I'm just scared of revision, worried about changing things, and horrified at the thought losing the glimpse of beauty and meaning captured in the original phrase. That's why I'm so afraid to edit poems...the meaning feels so fragile that I'm afraid it will die in my hands while I'm handling it.
Butterflies
Spider's webs
Lace
Moonlight
Fragrance
These things are what I view poetry as, and it's always been beyond me how anyone can just decide to sit down and write a poem with specific rhyme, meter, and meaning all at the same time. It reminds me of making pie crust...the more you handle it, the tougher the substance gets, the more it loses taste. In order to create a light, tasty crust, you have to get it right the first time, quickly, with the least possible handling. Hmm. Perhaps this shouldn't be the case with writing. Maybe it's a matter of talent I don't have, or maybe I need to practice poetry writing skills. I know there is a lot of laziness and fear going on here. I want to write poems that are both delicate and powerful, combining beauty with truth. The only beauty I know has been created by God, and the only power in me is the power of the risen Christ. The questions are:
Do I truly believe in Him, and
How does that become poetry?
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