Friday, July 7, 2017

First Draft Friday: Poetry

Some of the first things I ever wrote were poems. Melodramatic, pretty awful poems. I can't say that I've gotten any better at writing poems but I write them less and I'm under no illusion that I'm a poet. I use to think it was because I wasn't creative or artistic enough to be a truly good poet. Now I think I'm too fond of wordiness, instead of imagery, and I play a rhyme scheme to death, oftentimes abandoning sense and meaning just to make a rhyme (cause it's fun).

Anyway, only very recently did I discover that poems had first drafts too and could be edited to be made better. I don't know why this hadn't occurred to me other than, aside from a few Shakespeare sonnets, and an ass ton 16th-century literature (surprise, also mostly sonnets) I never took a poetry class in college. I avoided it like the plague, still feeling that I didn't have that magical, mystery quality that made a poet a poet.

But that has never stopped me from being possessed by the spirit of poetry every now and then and writing bits and pieces here and there. Now I have this idea that I might tinker around with them and make them stronger, or at least make me more happy about them. We'll see.

In the meantime, here's some first draft poetry for the first time on this First Draft Friday.

Pictured: tinkering
The Words I Say [first draft]
A poem by Stephanie Thompson

I have to say words but the words don't matter still I have to say them anyway

The words I say have no power once I say them but inside me they fester and make me rotten

The words I say don't matter not their order not their meaning I only say them to say something
say anything at all

Because the words I say don't matter
it's the silence words I don't say kill me
silent assassins with silence kill me

Then the words I said wouldn't matter
and my secrets stay secret with me
and I won't have to say them any more





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