A Stranger Gives Me Hope

I wrote a poem the other day from an idea that I've been batting around for about two months. Whenever an idea occurs to me, I jot it down in one of my far too many journals scattered around the desk, or I open a Word doc and write down the basic idea. I returned to the idea a few days ago, set to work, and after several hours of what felt like slogging through ankle-deep mud, I had a draft in place. I tinkered with it, got up to take Ado for a walk, came back to tinker a bit more, then closed out the file. I felt like the poem was taking shape, but could feel something more needed to be done.

Today I returned to the poem and the something more appeared to me as if it had been right in front of me all along. I slashed about six lines. I changed a word that made me stop every single time I read the poem. It's amazing to me how one little word can have such a huge impact on reading. At that point, I decided to post the work to the online site for feedback. After typing in the title, I realized I unconsciously changed two words from what I had on the Word doc version. I sat back, wondering if I should leave the new title and decided that yes, this title does something subtle to the overall reading that the previous title didn't.

Just a few minutes ago, I received a comment on my poem. The person who responded started out by saying he doesn't usually read or critique poetry as it isn't where his interest lies. He went on to say he decided to check out this poem because of the title, and after finishing the poem, he went back to read the other poems I have posted to the site. This person continued, offering such kind words about this poem that I found myself wiping away tears.

Many days I wonder if what I'm writing is any good. So far, the editors of all the literary magazines I've submitted to haven't thought my work is good enough to publish. This person's comment gives me hope, and I will continue trying. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Marigolds

Image
The smell of marigolds isn't completely pleasant. It's not completely offensive either. It's somewhere in between. It's a smell all its own. Hours after my hands have moved their long stems, cupped the blooms in wonder, I have to pause what I'm doing -- making the bed, vacuuming the house, hanging up clothes that had been unceremoniously dropped on the bedroom floor -- when the faint whiff of marigold drifts up to remind me of my time with them. Marigolds are just lovely. Whenever I see a marigold or smell a marigold, I'm taken back to my childhood. To a movie that for some reason became a part of who I am. I was only eight when the movie came out, but I remember having a very strong reaction to it, and every summer when I plant marigolds, I think of that movie: The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man in the Moon Marigolds. I try to watch it at least once a year, and since the marigolds I planted this summer are blooming, I thought the time is perfect to watch the movie
Read more

Profoundly Sad Today and I Don't Know Why

Image
I'm right at the edge today, fearing I might step off if the just-right reason shows up. What the just-right reason is, I don't know, but I guess if I end up dissolving into the tears that seem to be threatening, I'll know then. I'm trying to be analytical about the feeling pressing against the back of my eyes and through my nasal passages, hoping that analysis will help the feeling go away. It's not really working. Sleep eluded me most of the night. Once or twice a month I have a night sleep just won't come. I go to bed tired, but after an hour or two of sleep, I'm wide awake. Tossing, mostly onto my back and my left side. I don't sleep on my right side since my vertigo incident. I actually prefer my right but I'm afraid I'll trigger another bout of dizziness. Sleep laughed at me and slithered off to bathe someone else in dreamland. I'm pretty sure lack of sleep is part of today's slipping into sadness. That and thoughts of Ado. I miss h
Read more

Night Sky

Image
I had dinner with friends last evening. In their screened-in patio overlooking a wooded backyard leading to a creek. The air cooled significantly as the sky darkened, and at one moment we all enjoyed watching an owl that had taken perch on a tree limb near the creek. While a movie played, we chatted and ate ice pops. I'm pretty sure mine was grapefruit. At least that's what I'm going with.  Not long after the movie ended, I made my way home, which wasn't far. Just a couple of blocks. Cicada, cricket, and frog song drifted on the cool air, and when I looked up, I saw a clear sky full of stars. We've not had a clear night in some time. I stopped in the middle of the street to take in the scene. When I finally arrived home I decided to try and get some night sky photos, something I've never done before. I had no idea what I was doing. I spent twenty minutes or so on the front porch, swaying in my hammock swing as I read an article about astrophotography. What lens
Read more