I’ve been obsessed with poems lately. I gobble them up like they were caramel chocolates. Hmm...
Before this obsession, would I have ever used the word gobble like I did above? LOL
Poems put me in an odd mood, not bad, not sad, but also not always a good mood. I wonder - how am I supposed to feel about the words I read? Sometimes I laugh and I'm not sure why. In my recent past, I never understood a poem could be funny. I thought they were all dark and brooding - full of fluff and large words I would probably need a dictionary to decipher.
Ironically, the words themselves are what I like about the poetry I’m reading. I read the poems and I get an immediate image and an emotional response. I can’t always explain the feeling they invoke. Reading them aloud to someone else doesn’t provide them with the same reaction. Sometimes I get The Stare. A poem makes me think and there isn't an explanation within the stanzas, only what I can interpret with my own life experiences.
As a writer, I wonder if I should write poetry? I don’t think I'm ready or if I’ll ever be ready.
I'm pretty content reading others’ works right now. I just let myself feel the words and enjoy.
Some of my favorite Poets right now are Billy Collins, Mary Oliver, Clementine Von Radics, and I have several of the Ten Poems series by Roger Housden. The Ten Poems books are wonderful because they give me such a wide variety of poems and poets that interest me in the collection Roger Housden compiled. It’s an exciting discovery.
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