One day last week I had an excellent idea for a new poem, but it was weird the way it came to me. I am used to new ideas coming in sentences, usually the beginning of a piece, although this is perhaps more true for short fiction than anything else. I still think I'm new enough to writing poetry that I don't necessarily know my poetry-writing habits. Yet.
This idea came as a sort of image and feel of what the poem should be, and while there were perhaps a few words, I could only really make notes. This was a bit of a bummer because I actually had enough time that day to start (and maybe finish) it, but no matter how hard I tried, there were no words that day, other than the single ones appropriate for my journal. I hope the images come back as sharply when I do find time to write it.
This has only happened to me once before, as far as I can recall. I wonder if it might be a new way of working, or perhaps the beginnings of me finding a different voice for some of my work?
On poetry, I just came across Blemish Books, who are looking for poets and poetry. I believe they may have received funding to help put together their first title, so send them something, quick.
What I’m Reading May 2017
1 day ago