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I can't believe I dare to take a poetry class--I'm like an imposter shooting Cupid's arrow to Venus. My trip to a BA is excalating--I'm a senior now!--and English choices are narrowing. I know this instructor; I know she won't laugh at my efforts; I'll add to my other word skills, just attempting poetry, won't I?
Fifth grade haiku was nearly more than my chubby fingers and stalled brain could channel out, which is so weird, me being a "word person." But asking myself to structure my words just so is anathema to my creativity; I freeze. A couple summers ago I wrote a villanelle about incessant rain. The poem was incessantly wordy, and redundant. Like the rain in this part of the country.
My class will be an exploration of poets, an introduction to style, theme, technique, history, voice. It's an online class, so no one will see my crimson cheeks and knawed knuckles. It's a given that I will expose my ignorance. Naked online.
However, I have an idea that I like Merwyn, Oliver and Neruda. Something beyond roses are red, violets are blue, boys are nasty and so am I.
If you write poetry, how do you arrive at your subject? Get inspired?
Recommend your favorite poets, please. And say why you adore them?
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