There is an box that sits near my desk. Along one side, years ago, I had labeled the box as "Poems." Within this box are many of my finished pieces, as well as the sketches and scribbles which show my process of working out of my work. Now and then I open this box and revisit what I've written, asking myself the following:
Is it good?
Does it feel forced in any way?
Does it have depth?
Is it finished?
A few times along the way, someone has asked, "Are you sure it's finished? It doesn't look like it to me." In one case in particular, having I heard these critiques out, and questioned the work, mulling it over and over, I knew that that poem was complete. In time, those who thought it otherwise returned to say, "Yeah, it is complete. You were right." It was immensely gratifying to know that I had stayed the correct course.
However, I can sense it in my core when something is amiss, though I may have no idea what is wrong with my poem.. That's usually about the time when someone will point to a word or a phrase and ask me, "Are you sure?" I'll search till I understand the fault, then struggle with the it until I finally find the remedy. It's so important that I do.
In truth, although criticism tends to sting initially, I am ever grateful to any and all editors, whether their observations prove to be right or wrong. Still, in the end, I am the poet, and the final judgement of a work rests with me. I strive to be absolutely certain, from my deepest being, that the poem stands as it should, because I must, for that is how this game is played.
Is it good?
Does it feel forced in any way?
Does it have depth?
Is it finished?
A few times along the way, someone has asked, "Are you sure it's finished? It doesn't look like it to me." In one case in particular, having I heard these critiques out, and questioned the work, mulling it over and over, I knew that that poem was complete. In time, those who thought it otherwise returned to say, "Yeah, it is complete. You were right." It was immensely gratifying to know that I had stayed the correct course.
However, I can sense it in my core when something is amiss, though I may have no idea what is wrong with my poem.. That's usually about the time when someone will point to a word or a phrase and ask me, "Are you sure?" I'll search till I understand the fault, then struggle with the it until I finally find the remedy. It's so important that I do.
In truth, although criticism tends to sting initially, I am ever grateful to any and all editors, whether their observations prove to be right or wrong. Still, in the end, I am the poet, and the final judgement of a work rests with me. I strive to be absolutely certain, from my deepest being, that the poem stands as it should, because I must, for that is how this game is played.
RSS Feed