My Poetry Workshop Journal

In college my minor was in creative writing. All of the classes I took to get those credits were semester-long writing workshops and intensives and I ate them up. I loved it! Recently, I was doing some organizing and came across my journal from the poetry workshop I took one semester and had a fun time reading through my old work.

Most of it was stupid since I would never describe myself as a poet of any sorts. I never quite found my niche in the poetry world. I realized it wasn’t for me when we spent an hour and a half dissecting and analyzing a classmate’s poem that went something like this:

fart. poop. crap. sh*t. pee. burp. belch. f**k. fart. poop. crap. pee. burp. damn.
fart. poop. crap. sh*t. pee. burp. belch. f**k. fart. poop. crap. pee. burp. damn.
fart. poop. crap. sh*t. pee. burp. belch. f**k. fart. poop. crap. pee. burp. damn.
fart. poop. crap. sh*t. pee. burp. belch. f**k. fart. poop. crap. pee. burp. damn.

Forgive the French. It’s not I who wrote that poem, thank goodness. I got a quick chuckle out of it, but not a serious discussion that lasted an entire class. My take? Five minutes before class he forgot that it was his day to workshop his poem so he scribbled this jargon in a word doc in the computer lab and called it art. Lucky for him, art is subjective.

I found a few goodies in my batch of poems. Some were improvised during writing exercises and some were so arduous to write.

My limerick, The Singer

The singer wore a sparkling red outfit.
It enchanted the orchestra pit.
But she lost her red shoe
so instead they were blue
and she simply replied, “Eh, screw it.”

 

mardis gras (written for my Granny who had a mastectomy)

cancer stole my boobie.
the doctor had to cut it off.

i got a fake one.
it was silicon and it itched.

i went to mardi gras.
girls showed their boobies.

i took mine out and threw it.
i got the most beads. 

 My favorite, Freeway

the chicken truck tipped over on the freeway.
the driver passed away.
the accident was believed to be
fowl play. 

BAHAHAHAHA! Oh man, I cracked up when I read this. I completely forgot about all of the work I put into this journal. I need to do some more digging and find some of the other projects I’ve written over the years. There has to be hundreds of pieces tucked away in this house from all of the workshops, classes, and projects I’ve done in life and in school.

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