(This is the first of a ten part story . .
.)
A few years ago I submitted some of my
poetry to a professional body of poets for assessment, critique; and, hopefully,
some encouragement! I was devastated by
their response. My poems were deemed incomprehensible. Such complex conceptions
could not be understood. Heartbroken, I stopped writing. But after weathering a
long hard winter season (of about two years!) I began to write again. Yet it
seemed that the format in which I could most satisfyingly communicate, and
express what was burning inside me, was in my earlier formidable art of
“incomprehensible poetry.” I knew that I
might have to face continuing rejection because of it; but I was willing. Being
torn to shreds wasn't a bad thing! Even so, in a moment of desperation I began to
call my work ragged writings instead
of ‘poems,’ because I was left in tatters! (And, not being ‘poems,’ they
might evade censure!) Then in an emerging of a tentative springtime, I wrote a
definition and an explanation for my strange writing; and hoped it made some
sense!
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