April: National Poetry Writing Month

I love poetry. I have for many years. One of my favorite poems is "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe. I've long wanted to memorize it (it is on my bucket list). I've even written silly versions of the Raven in homage.

This month is National Poetry Writing Month. There is a website for it. Of course there is. There are websites for everything. I'll link to that at the end of the post. On the site, it says this:

Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now held every April, when schools, publishers, libraries, booksellers, and poets throughout the United States band together to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of organizations participate through readings, festivals, book displays, workshops, and other events.

That is a fantastic idea. I could wish that they'd done this when I was in school. I loved to write poetry when I was a child. One of my first poems, which my mother lovingly preserved, was: "I love God! I love Him. I loooooove Him." Clearly, an amazing piece of free form verse.

Inspired by her high praise of my art, and encouraged by my own inner thrill at writing something so profound, I penned many further classics, such as the inevitable, though unoriginal, variations of "Roses are Red," and the timeless "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells."

Since that time, I have endeavored to create works completely my own -- though there is nothing new under the sun -- and somewhat advanced in style. I've shared some of those lines here with you. In honor of National Poetry Month (and my daughter's 18th birthday), I've also put together a collection of some of my poems. Available for $.99 on Amazon, and on Smashwords, it is called "Light and Dark: poems of passion."

The cover was beautifully designed by my friend and writing partner, Robin Lythgoe.

I'll provide a sampling here of the Title Work:

Light and Dark

gleam light and sparkle

sun on the water, illusion of warmth

oh, glamour and shine

 bewitcher, boggler,

 lure of the lurker –

beware innocent of shadow and brine –

flash of cold silver, chilled blood of the deep

 watches the swimmer,

the splasher,

the lark

the darkness and depth hide fin in green-weed –

devour,

rejoice 

I am an evil ignorer of form, I admit it. But that, to me, is what poetry is all about. Not structure, form or rules, but passion and heart. Though I will be the first to admit that structure has produced some of the most beautiful, fluid words ever put to parchment. I say only: this is me, I hope you enjoy.

http://www.poets.org/page.php/prmID/41