Feeling the Images

I began a poetry class on Monday, and I’m struggling.  It’s a required course for my degree program, so withdrawing is not an option. I’ve never been a fan of reading poetry, and I’ve only recently begun to experiment with writing it.

This weeks assignment is imagery. I’ve read three chapters on the topic, read a poem with excellent examples of the week’s lesson, but continue to sit here staring at my screen, unable to write a poem about an Alaskan Winter.

Poetry is heartfelt and should come for a place of emotion.  It should express the feelings, thoughts and emotions of the writer.  Today I must find some of those things inside of me in order to write.  I’m staring at the snow outside my window and I see nothing I want to share.  It’s ugly today.  Gray.  The unseasonably warm and dry winter has not provided the normal beauty of the season.

I didn’t wake up feeling gloomy, but as I have concentrated on trying to feel the day, I’ve begun to feel sad.     Poets must feel their words and today I feel mine.

clb  ♡

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Feeling the Images

  1. I ended up taking the option of the alternate assignment. 🙂 Poetry is so personal and when I write it, which is rarely, it’s more emotional than descriptive. I knew it was a bust the minute I was giving a topic. My subconscious non-conformist rebelled.

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