Curiosity can be seen as an opportunity or as a detriment. For me, it has led to all sorts of pursuits that I am grateful to have learned about. (These days it is more of a detriment as it gets in my way as I spend way too much time exploring every link on my computer and not doing the work for which I have committed myself to deliver.)
I had always been curious about writing poetry, so years ago I decided to sign up for a poetry workshop. It was shocking. I was in a roomful of people who saw the world so differently from the way I did and who thought so differently that I wondered if I should just drop out. My classmates wrote beautiful abstract poems with no rhymes. I didn’t understand what they were trying to say at all. I think the instructor saw me as a fish out of water too as she assigned me to write a villanelle. So following the strict rules, this is what I wrote:
Where Old Mother Goose
Gets Sat Upon
by Slim Trim Barbie
Barbie sits upon a Mother Goose book
in which an old woman expounds her views.
Seductively, Barb won’t let children look.See a pin and pick it up for good luck;
See a pin and let it lay, it’s your noose.
Barbie sits upon a Mother Goose book.Pease porridge hot, Pease porridge cold; let’s cook.
Some like it hot, some like it cold; must choose.
Seductively, Barb won’t let children look.Goosey, goosey, gander, conscience forsook
Sent an old apostate down on a cruise.
Barbie sits upon a Mother Goose book.Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall that shook;
Could not recover from his rendezvous.
Seductively, Barb won’t let children look.How much money is in your pocketbook?
Buy a book of rhymes? Stand in Barbie queues?
Barbie sits upon a Mother Goose book.
Seductively, Barb won’t let children look.
Surprisingly, the group actually liked my villanelle and the instructor gave it a solid critique. So I tried another entry.
When Anger Comes Unbidden
When anger comes, unbidden, rising from a place unknown,
Fearful thoughts and stranger words better left unsaid, postponed
Become creatures to be reckoned with. . . later.The aftermath of anger holds seeds of its own demise.
Hollow tears in self-defense, lingering thoughts, half-truths, half-lies
Trying to justify to oneself. . . at least.A barrier placed internally eliminates one who’s loved,
None can speak, all words have died; a stance is taken whereof
Each declares personal. . . righteousness.In an unguarded moment, a day or week, maybe hence
One smiles, the other responds, beaming with magnificence
Trying to remember what the conflict was. . . over.
Whew! Writing poetry was hard work, but I stuck it out through the workshop and gained some appreciation for the people who think differently than I do.
Your post made me think of the things I have tried, a fish out of water indeed! I find it’s more fun alone, so if i make a fool of myself I can just laugh. It has encouraged me to continue to try things, like poetry, swimming in the lake, painting…just for the fun of it. And yes, I also got a greater appreciation for the people who do those things really well! Your poems are good, the first one is fun, full of memories of childhood. And the second one is very thoughtful…thanks for sharing.
I love this! I too was once in a poetry workshop. The wonderful woman who ran it was also a "rhymer" like me. It was such a wonderful experience!