I got good feedback when I posted that little piece in late August, so I thought I would share one of my favorite little poems:
Mourn the passing of a potential poet.
The gift, the wit, the desire have withered away.
The soul has become a bourgeois automaton;
More interested in keeping up with the Joneses,
Than keeping up with the muses.
(c) Me, of course, going back about 7 years
I always vascillate over if it should be interested in or intent upon. Each gives a different meaning. Since I'm not totally driven, I stick with interested. Intent implies much more ambition.
I keep a copy of that piece pinned to my office wall. Reminds me that I used to love to write and thought I would be a writer. I even toyed with the idea of getting an MFA in creative writing. I've never taken a creative writing class or really discussed my poetry with anyone learned. Most people do like it, even my friends in college who were more schooled in writing, although my tendency to imagistic language, personal symbolism and invented mythology tends to make it opaque. Those tendencies are not evident in this piece. I did write a piece that was read at our wedding. I've never been disciplined enough about it, though. Maybe, I'll try again this year to have a poet-related resolution.