I found a few words I had scribbled down about this abandoned looking barn house on my drive to St. Louis, way back in 2010, and I started tweaking it on the flight back from Pittsburgh.  I've been going through it to make sure that it has the same meter throughout, which I absolutely never do, and the alliteration and assonance has gotten so addictive in the piece that I am finding it so hard to not rhyme each stanza.  This meticulous manner reminds me of asking Kelsey for help while trying to write poetry for English 1101.  I really, really want to talk to her about this.

Then there is Monika Hey in Germany who the content of this piece constantly makes me miss.  The last time she came to visit she surprised me and read my piece in Stillpoint and then carried an actually amazing conversation about the deeper meanings in it and comparisons and it made me feel like a real writer.  I don't know how one person can make you feel that, but God it feels good to be taken seriously.

Every time I revisit a line to align the wording and the meter, I stumble upon different possibilities in the words.  Double meanings, a general build on themes in the piece.  I've finally started writing again, fiction mostly, and it's here in a poem that I feel like I can say the most.  I think it's hard accepting myself as a poet because I've always seen myself as a fiction writer, always wanted to use the elaborate stories in my head to build a fictional work and not hone in on it and condense it into so few words.

Labels: barn house poem, fiction, Kelsey, Monika Hey, poetry, Stillpoint, writing

Labels: mixtape, writing