I am befuddled by poetry, by the writing of it.
I have met a few professional, published poets (even though, of course, that is not how they make their livings) and they talk about the labor of crafting a poem.
My experience is that a poem happens almost by a will of its own. words form in my head, need to flow out. I almost feel like it is a process that should be done privately. I really don't understand my own computation to commit poetry and then share it.
I would think it must all be be bad, but there are always some people who like it.
The only time it is not liked is when I work at it, when I try to do it, when I craft it.
I wonder if it is that way in all arts, that some work hard and craft, and other's just can't seem to help it.
The other part that, well, makes me ponder is that if often feels like a prayer. Even when the subject is the most profane, or most ordinary. But my heart feeling is one of offering, of holiness.
I would like to spit out, extrude, commit more poetry. I would like to make it happen more. If feels like what I am meant to do, even though I think I'm probably doing it all wrong.
But really, that is kind of the point I am making. I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to make it happen. I have studied and studied but still don't understand creativity.
I only understand snatching at the occasional bubble as it floats by.