Me, Poet Pretender

  I read “How to Write a Poem” in a blog that I follow:

    Only a fool waits for a poem to come to him.

    You have to call for it like a proper blind date,

                 knocking on its door 

    and seeing beauty in whatever opens it.

Well, opinions are like elbows —  ‘most ever’body’s got a couple.

I write when the muse inspires me.  

I have yet to decide “I’m gonna write a poem “  —   and then set about to write. 

 I write to respond to an unbidden urge to express a novel thought.

I write the words that flow... and only when I need a specific word to form a rhyme in the context of a particular concept, or a synonym to contain the thought in the construct of the evolving meter —  only then do I search for words ...

My product is not the revelation of an unknown, or explanation of a mystery —  it is ever a trip through aspects of my own existence.

So it has been also in my excursions into the arena of fiction —  I transcribe the thoughts that are supplied to me ...  by what, or whom?  I have pondered, and cannot say. Some say that

  "...automatic writing or psychography is a ... psychic ability allowing a person to produce written words without consciously writing.   The words purportedly arise from a subconscious, spiritual  or supernatural source."

      

That’s an interesting analysis —  and I have no comment. 

But to me it becomes no less than anathema to be challenged to write a poem based on a particular, supplied word.  

I respect those who can pull this off -- and I enjoy reading their poems,  My comments are only a description of my personal predilections, not a criticism of others --  most  of them certainly more capable, and gifted with a talent that I will never have.