I love poetry. No, let me correct myself here, I WANT to love poetry.
I can see the potential joy of getting lost in a poem. I hear other people talk about how poetry offers them a sense of fulfilment unlike any other form of literature. I imagine myself sat in a comfy chair engrossed in the magic of a book of poems, the sunlight bursting through the window, and a fresh pot of tea steaming on the table. The reality though is me standing helpless at the poetry section of a bookstore, feeling small, lost and overwhelmed.
Now don't get me wrong, I am a published poet myself, albeit a writer of quirky children's poems, but like many people I suffer from imposter syndrome. I feel like there is something I'm missing, something everyone else knows that I don't know. Am I stupid? Am I the only one?
I try to read poems, especially the ones that people tell me I should read, but I often come away defeated and despondent.
I'm tired of this.
I'm going to do something about it.
I'm going to go back to basics and try and crack the poetry code. I'm determined to find access into this magical world. I am not approaching this with any sense of authority, rather I am happy to play the role of the fool on his journey to enlightenment.
So where is the very first place to start this journey?
I feel the only place to start is with the question WHAT IS A POEM?
I hope you will follow me on this path. I have no idea where it will lead, what we might learn or who we might meet along the way, but we are going to put one foot in front of the other and keep walking.
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