I’ve finished a poem that I’m happy with. It took some time to get going which frustrated me. I had to push back my deadline for assignment 4; not something I wanted to do but knew if I didn’t, my work wouldn’t be at its best.
I’ve found this assignment to be the hardest. Perhaps the lack of exercises hasn’t helped, and whilst one could argue that this is in part about drafting, I feel it’s the exercises that give me focus and ideas in making my poetry better.
My notebooks have built up over several months and contain some interesting ideas that I have developed into poems, however there are a few pieces that, no matter how much I jiggle and adjust they just aren’t meant to be.
Writing from my own experiences (& truth) have produced better poetry and I have continued to do this within assignment 4. Strangely, memories from my childhood are forefront in my mind at the moment. Poetry brings out my inner child and is a good therapy session for me.
My best (I use that word loosely) poem to date is about a girl called Genette who disappeared on her paper round in 1978. I was nine at the time of her disappearance and a year later I was delivering papers through letterboxes with her elfin face beaming on broadsheets and tabloids, still no clue as to her whereabouts or what happened to her.
Words seemed to tumble onto the page with this poem. My ten-year-old self pedalling my bike in the depths of winter with a heavy sack of newsprint across my body, scaring myself witless along dark whispering lanes, wondering if what happened to her would happen to me.
Thankfully it didn’t. From that experience I was able to put pen to paper and conjure up memories that had once been a constant companion during that time.
And whilst I grieve about pushing my deadline back, I feel better from the advice that my tutor gave me: it’s much better to take the extra time and the OCA courses are designed to offer some flexibility.
Writefully So... 