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  • April 7th, 2011 | 11:22 PM
Poem a Day #7

For the month of March I gave myself permission to not write and to try and learn how to play (mostly with art.) My hope was that I could find a way to reconnect with my lost writer self. Now that the month of play is over I am trying to distill what I have learned on my journey in my poem-a-day project for National Poetry Month.

I know that no matter what I write there will always be people who like it and people who don't, people who think I meant one thing when I meant another, and people who will be able to see straight through to the heart of me in my work.

One of the struggles I have had of late has concerned my love of writing free-verse and verse novels and my continual worries about what the rest of the world thinks of verse novels and whether my type of writing is actually poetry or prose with line breaks or something else. It has stopped me in my tracks and caused me to doubt myself before I even get the words on the page.

I don't know how to conquer this fear, I really don't. But I know I can't let it win. I can't let it stop me from writing what I love to write.

Is it a poem because it rhymes
(Seussian or otherwise)
or perhaps because the lines fall to expected feet,
scanned to please the ear?

Is it a poem because of the hours I spent to find just the right word
to craft just the right sentence
to show you how the green gold of the hummingbird's chest
was the exact color of my great grandmother's brooch?

Or is it a poem
just because
I say
it is a poem?

© 2011 Susan Taylor Brown. All rights reserved.
There are so many stories only you can tell.Tell them, please.


( 6 comments — Leave comment )
April 8th, 2011 03:17 pm (UTC)
My father and I have had this discussion more than once. I like the way you pose the questions in your poem, and especially like:

how the green gold of the hummingbird's chest
was the exact color of my great grandmother's brooch?

I have been enjoying your poem a day.

April 8th, 2011 04:11 pm (UTC)
I left a comment earlier, which disappeared. Now I am wondering if you will have two comments from me. LJ has been difficult of late.

Regarding your poem, my Dad and I have had this discussion more than once. I like the way you address the issue, and especially loved:

green gold of the hummingbird's chest
was the exact color of my great grandmother's brooch.

I have been enjoying your poem a day, as well as the writing exercises.

April 8th, 2011 04:15 pm (UTC)
Thank you, Ellie. I don't know what's going on with LiveJournal today. Now it won't import my Notes onto Facebook either.

I appreciate you reading along with me and playing along with the writing exercises.
April 8th, 2011 05:44 pm (UTC)
Yes. It is. And a good one, too.
April 8th, 2011 06:40 pm (UTC)
Thank you, Candice. I've been thinking of you today while I try to push my own black dog out of my way.
(Deleted comment)
April 9th, 2011 06:05 am (UTC)
That's nice to know...thank you.
( 6 comments — Leave comment )

Who am I?I was born on the Cancer/Leo cusp and share a birthday with Ernest Hemingway and Robin Williams. The similarities don't stop there as I can go from depressed to ecstatic without ever passing go. I feel scared most of the time though my friends call me brave and I find it easier to believe in my friends than to believe in my own abilities to make what I want out of my life.

Who am I? A wife, a mother, a daughter, and even, gulp, a grandmother.

Who am I? A writer who never gets tired of playing with words, even when the words are hard to find. A writer of books for children and articles for grown-ups and many things in-between.

Who am I? A motivational speaker, writing instructor, workshop leader and full-time follower of dreams.

Who am I? Read and find out.

Susan Taylor Brown

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"Successful writers are not the ones who write the best sentences. They are the ones who keep writing. They are the ones who discover what is most important and strangest and most pleasurable in themselves, and keep believing in the value of their work, despite the difficulties."
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