At
Big Tent Poetry this week we were to shake up our writing life.
We
were to look at our last twelve or so poems and catch ourselves being banal or
consistently writing in one way or another. I found I haven’t written in much
metrical verse lately but I have written in long and short lines, in first and
third person… though I found certain…. Annoying characteristics.
So, rather than write differently, I decided to be a rebel and confess my
poetic sins… because much of my poetry is confessional and really, I needed to
be more original than more more more confessional poetry so I did confessional
poetry, differently.
for
I have sinned
too
many poetic
confessionals
with a
slightly
self indulgent
make
that multiple
me
me me binges
Forgive
me, father,
for
I have sinned
Tzck
tzck tzck too
many
clackety clackety
heard
it, pen and paper
no
need to ruminate
onomatopoetical
sin
Forgive
me, father,
for
I have sinned
sentient
sacred
ceremonial
salt
tears
tucked tautly
my
memory morphs
alliteration,
ah!
Forgive
me, father,
for I have sinned
Oh, but this is wonderful: takes me back to my childhood, scratching round for something to confess!
Maybe "a slight self indulgent" should be indulgence? (a play on words, as well as for the grammar!)
Posted by: vivienne blake | August 06, 2010 at 01:21 PM
Julie, this is delightful! Absolutely love it. Love the way the poem models the "sins" it confesses. Love the way you literalized "confessional" poetry. Clever! and beautiful!
Posted by: Paul Oakley | August 06, 2010 at 01:26 PM
:)
Posted by: barbara | August 06, 2010 at 02:00 PM
We've all sinned. And will. Part of being human. You did confessional poetry differently, and that's okay. To write is the most important thing.
Posted by: Mary | August 06, 2010 at 02:55 PM
Clever, clever!
Posted by: Tumblewords | August 06, 2010 at 08:34 PM
"onomatopoetical sin", is that really so bad, Julie?!
Posted by: Derrick | August 07, 2010 at 06:38 AM
Like Viv, you reminded me of the little girl who would kneel in the pew, trying her damnedest to come up with a new way to say:
I fought with my sister, who had it coming,
I sassed my Mother, who didn't
and about that boy who lives around the corner and down the block.....?
Really like your poem, a lot,
Elizabeth
Posted by: Elizabeth | August 07, 2010 at 07:45 AM
confessed in a diffrent way indeed.....and well done Julie
Posted by: wayne | August 07, 2010 at 06:00 PM
Well written, and oh so original!
Posted by: Mary | August 07, 2010 at 07:08 PM
A very enjoyable read!
http://firmlyrooted.blogspot.com/2010/08/now-it-there-no-it-isnt.html
Posted by: gautami tripathy | August 07, 2010 at 08:00 PM