I’m taking a class called Advanced Poetry writing for the creative writing major that I’m hoping to get into before I graduate. In this class we have to write a new poem every week (duh Pretty obvious by the title) based on a specific type of structure that we are looking at/studying for that week.
I used to imagine poetry as this intense, deep and always sad medium that usually expressed how depressed or lonely the speaker’s life was; and really, that’s fine poetry too but that couldn’t have been all there was to poetry and it wasn’t. I’m discovering different poems that show how fun and interesting language can be and how a poem can actually be funny.
Anyway, the first poetic structure we learned about was the Descriptive-Medatative poem. I’ve hyperlinked the word to the actual author of the book that we’re learning from and he goes into depth about the styles if anyone is interested, nonetheless, the structure is a 3 part structure that basically shows the poet describing something and then going off into this meditative train of thought, and then goes back to describing something and usually that description has slightly changed or become a bit more meditative. I thought I’d share the poem I wrote for my class, it’s only the second draft but I received some pretty good feedback on it so I decided why not share it to the internet, that way I’ll be called a gay idiot for sure. Here is some poetry for your eye holes, enjoy… or don’t – I can’t tell you what to do I can only beg so please don’t steal it – that’s not nice and it would make me very sad, also feedback is welcomed anytime 🙂
From afar the medieval town looks of nothing more than
smears of browns, reds, yellows, and greens
haphazardly swirled on the page.
Every white space accounted for, every spec
covered with a plenty of merry looking characters:
the stuffed men snoring through the noisy picture,
graceful drunks shoving about,
chefs cooking meat soon to be ravaged,
all trying tricks wearing stripes
I see the Wizard in the heap with his
candy-cane cane – though, that’s not the candy-cane article
I’m looking for, yours
yours is the candy-cane cap, more importantly yours is
the candy-cane sweater
and scanning through the sea of suspects
I desperately try to find, you,
I’m not sure why I’m so determined but
titles imply that I unearth you,
all asking the same question
Where – Where – Where –
And yet you’re
happy looking when spotted in a crowd
never really seeming lost when found. Maybe
just maybe, you’re alive in there
jumping from place to place
to run away.
I don’t mean to put a damper on your plans but
I hope you know that there are only
a certain number of pages to travel,
only a certain number of pages to hide. Someone
will always know where you are.
Never mind it all, I see you
slightly off the center, standing by smoke and
sleeping bearded men.
You’re looking directly at me
smiling, which I’ve come to take as ironic,
you’re a bit too passive aggressive.
You can’t blame me, that’s
just how this works
Here’s some advice:
if you want to stay hidden
take off that obvious