Poetry

I don’t write poetry. I don’t usually “get” poetry and it’s never been one of my favourite creative methods to both write or read. Can I blame it on school? On having that dreaded poetry anthology thrust upon us all in Year 9, in schools all over the country? Possibly. School certainly didn’t make poetry a fun experience; having to dissect every line, every word almost, constant analysis and notations. We were never really allowed to just read it, enjoy it and make of it what we wanted to – if anything.

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So, now I’ve said I don’t write poetry, here I am about to share some of my own poetry with you. I only started dabbling in this in 2017. I went through a what I would call, a creative shit-box stage where all I wanted in life was to be one of these adoringly creative people who drew and painted and wrote poetry and looked at things in a different way. I’m not one of those people but I thought I’d give this poetry thing a whirl anyway. After my “getting back into drawing” phase failed as did my painting phase. And if nothing else comes from this, at least I’ve filled up another day of content.

I’m not very creative with titles so they’re very basic. I also have no idea about different “types” of poetry – what should rhyme, when it should rhyme, if it should rhyme, how many lines, syllables. I have no freaking idea. So you will notice that what I’ve written, doesn’t fit into any category. In fact, I’m not even sure it can be labelled “poetry”, but whatever. I’m sharing something I feel deeply uncomfortable about sharing. I’m well and truly stepping outside my comfort zone here, which is something I wanted to do – blogging wise – more of this year.

One (a poem about what I was doing at that particular time of writing and stuff)

I sat on my bed. Alone.
I was dressed but under the covers.
The tea I was cradling was lukewarm,
but the mug still hot enough to make my fingers tingle.
Like you’ve jsut stepped into a warm house from being in the cold all day.
The day was bright.
The trees casting shadows and patterns through my window,
as they danced beneath the sun.
The sound of a lawn mower filling my ears and my brain.
Our street is small.
Every sound gets everywhere.
But everyone gets nowhere.

White souls (a poem about soul-mates or something)

Is the notion of souls and soul-mates true?
Or is it all just white noise,
there to distract us from the fact that we are all alone?

Make down

It’s the simple acts of brushing ones hair,
lining ones lips,
dressing ones eyes,
which makes me understand the futile nature of one’s lives.

The end (a poem I wrote when I was in a quite dark mental state, as you’ll probably tell)

Is this the beginning of the end?
I don’t think we will ever know.
But my thoughts wander to that of an empty bed
and dusty bookcases.
Unworn clothes and unused perfume.
All the simple things that make a life.
Even one as un-extraordinay as mine.

Old friends (and my personal favourite)

Do you ever look at photos of old friends
and as you’re staring intently at their smiling eyes,
you don’t so much as see them,
as much as you see yourself.
Staring right back at you,
in the eyes of those that saw you,
so fully and intently at one point in time.
And then all at once you can’t understand life without them,
but can’t imagine a life with them.

Okay there we go, that’s all I mustered up over the course of an entire year. To be fair, I did write these when I felt like I had something to say. I was definitely emotional or feeling something at the time so I can safely say they all came from the heart. I hope you enjoyed them – if you have any feedback for me, I’d love to hear it! Please share your own poetry in the comments.

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95 thoughts on “Poetry

  1. Lovely poetry! And what you said at the beginning brought back so many memories – we read a poem at school about moving house, and the teacher kept saying ‘no it’s a metaphor for how his life is falling apart’, he came to the school or we visited a reading or something and we asked what it was about. It was literally about moving house!

  2. The thing I find with poetry is that it is very subjective. The poet might write with meaning or just throw words together but either way it’s then upto the reader if those words resonate and they connect with the meaning.

    I wouldn’t worry about syllables, rhyming and all that jazz. Poetry can be anything. I write it myself, very simplistic and rhyming style which I’m sure is frowned upon by the proper poets but it contains meaning and emotion. I actually posted a poem yesterday, reject like me, yeah, the title tells you how happy it is.

    I find poetry to be a good way to get feelings out though and there’s something cathartic about putting those feelings into the written word.

    You’ve wrote some decent poetry and are talented.👌

  3. I love that you jumped out of your comfort zone and tried new things, even if they didn’t pan out in the end. 🙂 I think you got something going there with those poems, they were’t bad! Good job!

  4. Wow, I really enjoyed your poems! I don’t think there is a proper way in which people should write poetry… poetry comes from the soul. I could definitely feel the emotion behind your words and that’s all that matters. You should try it out more often! 🙂

  5. Hi, I loved reading your poems especially the one relating to tea. I could picture myself lying in bed doing exactly the same sipping on like warm tea listerning to the weather outside.

  6. These are so good! I love the old friends one. I wouldn’t even know where to start with poetry but it’s something I always enjoy and love reading. Maybe one day in the future I could have a go but I’m not sure I’d be very good. Like you said, I don’t think school teach enough on poetry. X

  7. Well done on having the courage to put yourself out there and share these when you didn’t know what the reaction would be! Personally I think they’re really good and you should definitely continue writing if it’s something you enjoy!

    Jess xx

    • Oh no! I’m literally so sorry to hear that haha. If it’s something you enjoy then definitely read some outside of school in your own time and try not connect the two so you don’t lose your love for it (; x

  8. Great post Jenny! You’re poems are rocking! I love to sit and let words spill so I definitely know what you mean about not knowing the category & such. For me poetry is a means of expression, it’s the most artistic form on the play of English words. Thanks for sharing this…you’ve made me feel more encouraged to share mine 💕

    xx Lena | https://lenadeexo.com

  9. You needn’t feel self-conscious at all, you write so well! You write with a real stoicism, which is mega mature.

    The one about your friends is really lovely. Keep writing; you’re great at it and it’s so therapeutic!

    Steph 😊
    xo

  10. Jenny, as I suspected from someone who writes as eloquently and beautifully as you do, these poems are great. I particularly like the Old Friends one too – but White Souls kind of took my breath away. I am so proud of you for stepping outside of your comfort zone and sharing these. You are incredibly talented.
    Beth x Adventure & Anxiety

  11. I am glad that you have talked about the rigidity of school curriculum killing the joy of reading poetry for leisure. But you know, I believe poetry is not so much about getting the rhyme, syntax or the metre right, it is more about projecting your self in a manner you deem the best. And needless to say, you’re doing exactly that. Your works are wonderful, my favorite is ‘the end’. 🙂

    And I, by no means any good at poetry myself, but I have some stuff that may like to read maybe: https://anondotverse.wordpress.com/about/

  12. So I’m an avid poetry writer and I followed you before reading your whole post cause I’m always open minded and I was pleasantly surprised to see a change of heart and some enjoyable poetry! Always keep writing!

  13. I really loved these and the titles fit perfectly (I personally like simply titled poems, they’re one/two words that could sum up what you’ve wrote). I never wrote poetry before I was in my final year of my undergraduate degree, I was taking a creative writing module (which happened to be the only class I enjoyed during that year)…. Our lecturer was really encouraging and liked us just to write and send to him what we’ve wrote, I usually sent him short stories or personal essays but I felt motivated to try piecing together little poems (or rambles as I still like to call them). I’ve always enjoyed poetry and felt inspired to try write some of my own!! The past few months I’ve really enjoyed writing little poems and I’m by no means great (probably not even good) but I love it and I think that’s the main thing, it’s very therapeutic if I’m honest. You should continue posting your poems, I’d love to read them and follow your ‘poetry journey’ 😛

  14. It’s good to see this perspective towards poetry to be honest. I find myself getting caught to often up in the complexities of writing poetry. Seeing this clearly emotive approach is a nice change. (I also blame the school system for my horrible nature in terms of poetry… I’ve read those same fifteen poems hundreds of times I swear and it’s still not quite over)

  15. I loved them, I think the particular style poetry you do is ‘free verse’. Poetry that doesn’t rhyme or rhymes irregularly or have a regular rythm. These stories do not conform to poetry rules, yet are still called poetry in regards to self-expression.

  16. Hey! I’m new to WordPress and just trying to find my way around. I am incredibly inspired by your blog! Thank you for sharing your talent 🙂 if you have any pointers for someone just joining I’ll be happy to take the advice!

  17. You’re really talented.

    I’ll share something of my own.. I just started this blog, hopefully I can gain some followers from this, get my name out there.

    She was two years old when her world came crashing down. She lost her best friend; her dad.
    She was six when she graduated from preschool wondering where her dad was to congratulate her. She was ten when she won second place overall in a myrtle beach state competition wondering where her number one fan was.
    She was fourteen when she wondered where her shoulder to cry on was. She was sixteen when she wanted to be with him; so she tried to kill herself to see him again.
    But;
    She was eighteen when she graduated high school: looking up as her dad got the front row seat.
    She was twenty when she walked across the stage a second time after receiving her degree.
    She was twenty-three when she walked down the isle wishing you were there to give her away to the person who reminded her so much of you.
    And she was twenty-five when she conceived her baby boy; wanting nothing more than to live.

    If anyways wants to read more feel free to ask, I’ll share

  18. Pingback: Poetry – SEO

  19. I enjoy poetry more now after taking a poetry boot camp. The sessions themselves were painful. I had constructive criticism thrown at me for six hours straight and I had to get up in front of unknowns and read my poetry, but now that I got threw it, I can appreciate it that much more, but to try and sit and figure out what someone was trying to say with imagery can be a bit daunting.

  20. this is great stuff. i loved your poem about old friends, and i read it quite a few times. especially the ending 💕💕

  21. hello, i absolutely relate to your story. I’ve been writing poetry for as long as i can remember and i recall that period i high school English where we had to decipher every single syllable and rhyme pattern of poetry and it suffocated my passion for a time. I know the poetry fanatics will cry murder for me saying this but I’ll say it anyway. Forget the rules, the rhyme, the stanzas, alliteration and all that fishcake, write what you feel and your poetry will find its own category to fit in. Just let the words breathe… at least that’s how i do it.

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