7 things you should know about being a poet

This was too funny to not share; from About.com:

7 Things You Should Know About Being a Poet: A List of Lists

My favorite so far (haven’t had time to read them all yet) is Michael Wells’ 3rd point:

Wells wrote:
People will think you are moody because you are a poet. This is not so. Even people who cannot write a single line of poetry can be moody anytime prior to their death.

So, here’s my list, after not much thought at all:

  • Writing poems will not solve your mental problems. On the contrary, it exacerbates the situation because people no longer doubt your insanity when they find out that you are a poet. This, in turn, makes you crazy because you have studied verse for over twenty years and it’s all for nothing.
  • Writing poetry can’t be used as an acceptable tax-deduction for all the paper you buy and throw in the trash. You’ve just got to bite the cost.
  • Lines in poems have a tendency to reproduce when you turn your back. Just when you thought you’d got the sucker down to ten lines it morphs into a sonnet. A bad sonnet.
  • Poems have a tendency to hide during April, napowrimo month, especially if you blog about them. Nothing you do will coax the damn things back out, except writing terrible limericks. Use this power wisely.
  • When people find out you write poems, they often want you to write something for their grandmother’s funeral. Resist the urge. Some great-uncle is always offended if the thing rhymes, and some other great-aunt is offended if it doesn’t. Quote from Dylan Thomas instead (“Do Not Go Gentle” is an amusing choice).
  • You will find your moral compass grows skewed when you’ve written poems long enough because you come to realize that most of your lines are stolen from something you read ten years ago. Of course, you can never recall the exact text. This also makes you crazy.
  • Finally, your ability to tell an iamb from a spondee will not get you free coffee, even if you quote from Shakespeare and perform the death scene from Romeo and Juliet while in line at the bookstore. Most people will assume you are homeless and try to get you thrown out.

  • .

    droplets

    I have bronchitis. I thought it was getting better, what with the antibiotics, inhaler, and all the other stuff I’m using, but no. So, the afternoon I was going to spend at the park with the family and my camera was a no go. I did this instead:


    Poem Spark Dec. 24 – Jan. 7 – Winter Poems


    Greetings fellow poets!

    As you may have guessed, the passing of winter and the start of a new year are on my mind. And it seems that I’m not the only one thinking of this; the front page of Poets.org has the following banner:

    Poems for Christmas

    Poems for Winter

    Poems for New Years

    If you click on any of those links, it brings you to a plethora of choices. I can’t pick all my favorites; there are so many holiday poems from which to choose. Robert Frost or Wallace Stevens? Tennyson or Hardy? The possibilities are endless.

    For this spark, you have a choice: pick your favorite winter/holiday/new years poem and post the title and a link, or write your own poem in celebration (or dismay) of the season.

    Have fun and Happy Holidays!

    PS-I’ve decided: my favorite is Wallace Stevens’ The Snow Man. Brilliant poem!

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    Busy beautiful winter

    I haven’t been posting much because I’ve been very busy with last-minute holiday preparations and I also have a nasty cold. Those two things together are enough to flatten me by 9 pm. However, here are a few photos I took right after the last storm on December 16.



    Why was my car stuck?

    Because I live on a hill. The sleet changed to freezing rain. I spent most of the day slogging around in the muck trying to get my car out of the woods. Finally a lone plow came around and cleared a single lane up the road and I was able to get my car home.