Slam Poetry: Day One

So, clearly this post is happening way sooner than I really intended for it too. I’m not sure what happened, I was really looking forward to this one… Yesterday I was all set to get my feet wet and start writing today, but all day long its been a struggle. Every time I get ready to put my pen to paper or fingers to keys I draw a complete blank.

Actually, that’s not completely true. What I draw on is the pages and pages of embarrassing, angsty, awful poetry I wrote throughout junior high and early high school. I still have those pages, but every time I look at them I have to convince myself to keep them. It’s a reminder of just how seriously I used to take myself. I’m having a really hard time with writing poetry now, for the same reason… I’m not sure how to do  it without taking myself too seriously. Every line I write, every rhyming pair I manage to string together feels so forced, so fake that I can barely stomach to look at it on the page. It doesn’t help that when I read what I’ve written to myself, my voice seems to adapt into that of a black guy.

It’s ridiculous how night and day today and yesterday have been… Yesterday I was pumped. I was excited. I knew I could totally do this. Today, it’s been nothing but the opposite. As soon as my pen came to paper I’ve been doubting and second guessing myself. Yesterday I was thinking I’d post my rough drafts here, but today I can’t imagine even relegating them to the Bad Poetry journal.

On the off chance anyone out there is reading this… Any suggestions?


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