I can tell when I’m meandering too much. Disjointed thoughts kinda connected but no flashes of anything great. Placeholders so I can say I wrote for the day. Not quite “mailing it in” but certainly heading in that direction. Sometime during the afternoon yesterday a poor idea formed. Maybe I should try some poetry. 

Before your panties get too bunged up, here’s my promise to you. This will not become a poetry blog. I didn’t take any poetry classes in college so my education on the subject consists of recalling the term “iambic pentameter” which I believe refers to the number 5 and rhyming and or the number of lines, and “haiku”.  The latter because I had to help my kids write them. 

Anyone worth their salt would stop now and research poetry a little before embarking on the rest of this post. I am not that type of salty. Instead, I’ll forge on, willfully defiant of Walden or Wordsworth or whomever. I’ll make poetry. Prepare thyself. 

I do like the notion of poetry. Kind of a cliff notes description of the world around us and our emotional reaction to said world. Good poems are formed slowly so that each word weighs a metric ton (which has to be weighty) to depict the depth and seriousness of the moment. Poems should be serious I think. Like little atomic bombs of feeling. 

As I’m sitting here planning my poetic attack, I’m reminded of Shel Silverstein. While The Giving Tree may be my go to by him, my daughter and I used to read A Light in the Attic together. It has a ton of good light poems sprinkled with a little darkness to make sure you think.  I like that his work isn’t so straight and proper, that he allows some ragged edges in the words.  There’s a poem called Moon Catchin Net, and something about that combination of words comes out primitive and jarring. I like that. He also draws real good like. 

A poem a day for a week?  Maybe Pat’s Poetry Wednesday’s?  A challenge to myself. I think I like it. I mean, this gives me a week to decide if I really want to commit to this. 

As I sit and contemplate my first entry into this, I question if a poem is a song or no. Are the words standing alone without melody just a poem. This seems right to me and I’m sure a googling would confirm this. But googling takes time away from poeming so I’m going to just say yes to this one. 

I think I’m ready

Words on the first day of school 

This is a high coup 

#hugsandhi5s