For the better part of 40 years, I’ve made a pest of myself to poetry lovers. I’ve complained too often that too many poets seem to think they can declare their depth and genius by stringing together words that are incomprehensible and full of themselves.
I don’t like reading anything that has to be explained. Some of it is probably just over my head, but how would I know?
Today, I apologize and make a full confession: I, too, am a recovering poet.
As many of us do I went through my young writer poetry affectation stage back in high school. I just strung together words I liked in strict meter. I still believe that even free verse should have a rhythm, but again, how would I know? I never studied poetry and grew tired of pretense when I started writing plays and sensible prose (both of which I also never studied.)
This is the one poem I wrote that I love and keep. It’s calligraphed and nicely framed and displayed on a wall in our home. I wrote it for my wife, the lovely and feisty CarolAnn Williams, on our first Christmas.
I love and am keeping her, too.
My Christmas Carol
You are Christmas
and I am a child,
enchanted by eyes that sparkle
with the merry shine of a thousand twinkling lights.
As Christmas, you hold secrets:
promises of wonder
in yet unopened gifts.
And I am so filled with joy
that there is no room in me
for fear or despair;
The magic of Christmas is in me!
You put it there.
– For my CarolAnn, my wife.
December 25, 1988
I didn’t do the phrasing. I don’t know where to leave one line and begin another willy-nilly. I guess it’s to look cool. Yet again, how would I know?
I do know that our friend, the late Rosemary Schmidt, understood it. She put my words into attractive (if weird) line breaks while maintaining the meter.
Meter is a big deal to me because I used to be a drummer.
Anyway, I’m open to all the criticism I deserve except for my motive. When you love someone with all your heart, corny metaphors and even some metric missteps are totally acceptable.
Though I can’t know that for sure.
PS. A few years ago I started a Facebook page called Why I Hate Poetry. You can see it here and call it Why I Hate Dave if you like.
