Skip to main content

Poets don't have to rhyme

I'm really gaining an appreciation for poetry this semester. And just language in general. I never, ever, ever thought this would happen, but I'm so glad it has. I can already see a huge difference in my writing in general and I'm figuring out what I myself love in writing. It's pretty surprising, I'm a sucker for details. Details. Me! The girl who HATES putting details into her writing. The girl who swore off details back in fourth grade. The thing is, it's the RIGHT use of details that I love. There's a difference from taking time to craft your words to aptly describe something and paint a picture, and just throwing them in to sound more wordy and because all those writing workshops tell you to write out their eye color height weight, bla bla bla, and then you feel the need to shove said details down our throats. Makes me gag.

Whenever I thought of poetry, I thought of depressing topics and such. And I always thought it just wasn't my thing. But this semester, I have to write poetry and much to my surprise it hasn't been that bad. I'm still alive. In fact, I even started experimenting with it for fun and I like it. I really like writing haikus. So the last few weeks I've been writing haikus about topics that are bugging me. They turn out pretty depressing, but that's ok. No one else is going to read them, and I was able to express how I was feeling in that moment.

I'm a little nervous for tomorrow. I had to write a poem for the class to workshop, and tomorrow I get to hear what they all think. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that my classmates are going to be honest. They don't know me, they aren't my friends, they're not trying to make me feel happy feely. The point of this class is to get better at writing, and sometimes that takes a tough skin. I guess I'm both nervous and excited at the same time. What if they all think I'm the suckiest writer ever to grace mankind, or that I'm this really crazy person? Then again, they're going to help me get better. That, I'm excited for.

One last thing. From the outside, today I looked like your normal college student. Wearing a scarf, t-shirt. Nothing too flashy. Perhaps a bit scholarly.


But I had a secret. 

CRAZY SOCKS! 

So sneaky huh? They were hidden under my jeans. This my friends, is how I stay true to the crazy socks and still get looked at like an adult. It's always a party when I get home, take my shoes off, and there they are. Or those rare moments when my jeans ride up and you can see my ankles. Oh, how I love my crazy socks. 

If you do want to read some poetry by yours truly, here's some I'm comfortable sharing at the moment. 

Comments

  1. AnonymousFebruary 20, 2013 at 5:39 PM

    I've embraced the crazy socks trend, because they keep my ankles and calves warm!!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Racism, stereotypes, and plain ole judging

Being in a class dedicated to the idea of migration has really kept the idea of racism on the brain. In elementary school, the idea of racism was so defined to me, thinking people are better than others based solely on the color of their skin. It wasn't until middle school after reading many books that I realized racism wasn't jut as issue of black versus white, rather it applies to all cultures. In high school I was actually shocked to here racist statements from people I loved. All the sudden this issue became personal somewhat. (My favorite statement was from a little girl who said, it should be illegal for Mexicans to have babies. I guess I can't have kids then.)  But it wasn't until last week when we did an activity in my public health class that I realized that I myself was being racist as well. Now, this is something I am not proud of. I'm very embarrassed actually and that activity was humbling. Why am I writing about this? Because, it's som...
1 comment
Read more

Toxic Masculinity

It seems like forever ago that they released that Gilette ad about toxic masculinity. I watched as people I'd grown up with freaked out about it, saying that it said that men need to be like women, and that it condemned masculinity altogether, along with other things. I crafted post after post to write on my social media, but in the end didn't bother writing anything. I didn't feel like arguing with people. But I had to share my thoughts somewhere, so here they are.  To me, toxic masculinity is exactly what it says-- ideals of masculinity that are toxic. It's telling your son that he needs to suck it up and not cry. That he can get away with more than girls because 'boys will be boys.' The idea that he can't read or watch certain media because it's "for girls." At the same time, girls are asked to watch things that are "for boys" all of the time. It's the idea that men need to repress their feelings. That they can't be sc...
1 comment
Read more

Little Bit o Writing Monday

The beginning of my short story for class.  When Dora's son tugged on her pants leg, the last thing she expected was to see him holding a tooth. A tooth that clearly did not belong to him. She was no dentist, but she was smart enough to know the colossal thing couldn't have come from Mark's mouth. “Mark, where did you find that?” Dora scolded. “In the backyard.” “Show me where,” Dora commanded. Excited, Mark ran out to the backyard, Dora following on his heels. He led her over to the back of the yard, to the particular corner that couldn't be seen from the kitchen window. There, her other two children were gathered around a hole in the ground. Hole was an understatement though, they'd obviously been working on this, pit, for quite sometime. If there had been no tooth, Dora would have sat the kids down and explained how digging holes this deep was dangerous because of all the water, electric, and who knows what else lines were under the ...
1 comment
Read more