Workshop Poem

I have been struggling with which poem to use for workshop at the end of the semester. I want to use the poem that I wrote for Carrie, which I posted a few weeks back on here. The problem might be when it comes time to edit. I don't know is this poem is too close to me for me to be able to take criticism on it. I am worried I won't be able to change anything because while each line may not be perfect, it reminds me of her. I am willing to give it a shot, but I might have to have a back up poem. No one else had even read this poem other than Carrie and myself until I posted it in this blog. I don't mind people reading it, and I am excited about it because it has a lot of meaning to me. I am excited to see what kind of meaning this poem has when other read it. I just hope that I am able to work on it constructively during the editing process. It was written almost 3 years ago and I had never taken any classes in poetry writing before.

Inspiration for Writing Assignment 7

The house was abandoned probably over 15 years ago when a storm condemned it, and ever since it has been a favorite place of mine before, during, and after a lived in Marco Island, FL. We always used this house as a land mark. It is on the southern tip of an uninhabited island which meant we could to anything we wanted here. Often we would have bonfires, camp, or spend the weekend out here near the house. It was our favorite place because there was never anyone else around for miles. I can't remember a bad experience on this beach, and I have never been to that part of Florida without going out there to throw a party, or just go fishing. In later years the hose has been overtaken by the water and we can't go inside anymore, but it is still standing. I'm sure sooner or later it will fall down in a storm, but it will still always be one of my favorite places on earth.

Continued...

I neglected to write a response to the third poem from class on the 11th. The poem "New Snow" is very descriptive and seems to paint a picture for the reader with the words that the author chose. I get a clear feeling of the stillness of the wilderness after the snow has stopped falling. It seems that the immediate world is frozen in time, and is very peaceful. The only action we get in the poem was the sound of the carriage in the distance, but the fact that the narrator describes the sound so clearly, while being so far away from it only adds to the stillness of the scene. I like this poem as an example of the power of imagery. I can almost see the scene in my mind as a read the poem, and since no specific place was listed it takes me back to experiences in my own life. Perhaps the author intended this effect, which makes the poem applicable to each reader in their own way.

I look forward to trying my hand at the techniques I learned from reading these poems. I am enjoying writing poetry much more than prose because, for me, there is less analytical thought that goes into a poem, and more feeling.

Reading Responses

Since I missed class last week on April 11 I wanted to share my thoughts about the poems that were assigned as reading material for that class. First, Raymond Carver's poem about the photo of his father was touching. It almost feels like the narrator's father has just passed away and he is studying a picture of him. Since the poem refers to the father in the past tense (ex: All his life my father wanted to be bold) I get the sense he has passed. The narrator also expresses his regret that his father never passed on certain things to him as if it were too late now. I think the narrator is looking for something to be happy about in the wake of his father's death, but it having trouble finding it because it appears his father never became the man that he wished to be, and now he never will.

The poem written by Robert Hayden I get a sense of deep regret from the narrator, who wishes he had been more thankful and loving of his father when he was young. The author paints a picture of a tired, weathered man who works tirelessly to make the house warm for everyone else even on his days off, and no one ever thanked him for his work. It sounds like the father had become a bitter man by the time the narrator is recalling, yet he continued to work for others. It sounds like the narrator is still haunted today by how poorly he treated his father, and wishes he could go back and change how he was as a child.

Explanation

That poem was written a few years back for my fiance when she was sick in the hospital. She had just undergone a bone marrow transplant as well at chemo and she was stuck in an isolation room in the hospital on and off, sometimes for extended periods of time. I wrote this to her during a time when our relationship existed through the phone only for a couple months. It was a hard time for both of us, but this was meant to show how excited I got every time my phone rang and she was on the other end. Every reference to her was also capitalized because I was referring to one specific person, not a general idea of a person. I am sure it is not great, because I have never had any classes on poetry before, but it expressed one of the greatest emotions I have ever felt for anyone so I have always kept this poem. I even still go back and read it from time to time.

Sample

I thought this would be a good time to share something I wrote for my fiance about 3 years ago...

“You”

A ring, my heart skips a beat.

The thought of Her has kept me going

all day, just the Thought.

She has been dancing in my head for hours.

I drift off into a dream.

Happiness I have never known before is waiting,

waiting with Her.

Can this be real?

The ringing grows louder.

It’s no longer a dream, but a vision.

She walks towards me and takes my hand,

She leads me forward.

I follow with no signs of doubt.

I stay with Her, step by step

quietly wondering where She is leading me.

Another ring, my mind races with amazement.

I continue to walk with Her;

the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Her touch radiates through me like a wave.

The ringing in my ears turns to music.

I suddenly realize where She is leading me.

It’s my future, my future with Her.

We stop and I smile,

I am lost in Her eyes.

I bear brightest smile I can ever remember.

She leans in as if to speak to me, but I hear no words.

She takes a step back but again, no words.

The sound of Her voice would be like heaven,

but I can only hear the music.

It suddenly begins to fade, the ringing returns.

She stops and calls out to me

Wait, She is Calling me…

Another ring, I come back to reality

but the excitement remains.

It Is Her!

I pick it up and can say only one thing,

It sums up everything that I feel: “You”

You are Her, my dream,

My Carolyn Ann

For anyone reading this I will wait till next time to explain it...

Poetry

I have been looking forward to the poetry section of this class. I have never been good at prose, but I have written some poetry in the past and I am looking forward to the opportunity it will provide for me to explore some of my past. I have never been great and expressing myself openly, and I tend to internalize things, especially when it comes to emotional events. I have never really liked that aspect of myself because keeping things inside has led to some particularly acute physical symptoms in the past. I got migraines, panic attacks, and other things as a result of dealing with things internally, especially surrounding my late fiance.  Most of the poetry I have written in the past was for her, and probably was not very good. I didn't follow any style, or really know much about poetry in general. I am looking forward to learning more about it and trying my hand at expressing some of the emotions I have felt since her passing. I have had more life experiences than most people my age when it comes to matters of the heart, so we will see how this goes!