Boulder Strewn Path

It is amazing the boulders that fall into one’s path when one (one being me) determines to follow a given path. Robert Frost’s simple choice of a path in the woods – the one less traveled – seems so simplistic when held up against the reality of a modern life.

One example, my “Walking in the Path” self-assigned project appears to have come to a screeching halt. I say apparently, because I believe that I am only temporarily detouring around a detour. I had assumed that I would have an hour or so each evening to spend on that project, poetical exercise, and related activities. However, wham – life placed an obstacle in my path. It’s only temporary and of a very personal nature.

Trying to make lemonade out of lemons (that saying has never made sense to me – I don’t particularly like lemonade and always prefer to have just plain lemon juice in water – I digress): I’m spending more time in the car just now which contributes to the lack of time to TYPE; however, it affords me more time for a related effort which is to LISTEN to poetry. I have downloaded a variety of poetry books to my kindle – free, cheap, and budget-busters. My selection includes anthologies, collected works, selected works, individual books, books about poetry, poet biographies, literary remains, etc…. for poets of all periods. I use the text-to-speech feature of my kindle and just listen to these books as I drive down the road. I sometimes find myself tuning out and tuning back in. I have also downloaded several poetry reading spoken word songs from iTunes. I listen to my “music” set on shuffle each night and these recited poems are interwoven with the music that I have been listening to for years.

I find that when I go back and read a poem after having heard it that even the most difficult poems make more sense. I pick out more sense and gain more enjoyment by using more of my senses.

I consider this absorption into poetry to be an apprenticeship of sorts. I would like to learn to craft poetry myself. Not just write random crap but really work towards learning the craft and executing it in such a way that what I write sings my song. I have what you might calla 7 year plan. I give myself 7 years from now to absorb and practice and then I expect myself to be able to create.

I brainstorm some of the time as I’m driving and listening to poetry. I’ll find myself tuning out slightly to the meaning of the words as I think of something else. Tonight, I thought of a potential poetry project: my large family has a verbal history – stories we tell and retell of ourselves and our past. I would like to capture the sense and feel of some of these stories in an artistic way in a poetical form. To start, I would need to outline the concepts that I want to cover and then begin to work the words into the right phrasing. Sadly, I have no time to work on this right now but I hope I can work on it before I’m the only one left to remember the old stories.

This entry was posted in Kindle, Poetical Exericise, Rant or Soap Box, Squirrel (aka rabbit trail), Stream of Consciousness. Bookmark the permalink.

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