noun. an irrational or disproportionate fear of poetry
When I was in third grade, my teacher printed out poems that we had all written and made us each our own anthology. We made covers for them out of cardboard and some kind of decorative adhesive paper. Maybe Contact paper? I remember my cover was white with red, yellow, and blue fruit shapes on it. I even remember, 45 years later, the first stanza of a poem written by one of my classmates:
My family went to Maui
And we said wowee
When I think about it now, it makes me snicker like a middle schooler because, you know, Maui Wowie. Look it up if you don’t know what it is; I bet you can guess. For the record, I did not know what that was in third grade.
Anyway, I remember Jenny’s poem, but I don’t remember my own. Even then I didn’t feel confident about writing poetry.
Whenever I participate in SoLC, I am so in awe of the beautiful, clever poetry people post. I’ve tried once or twice to post my own, but instead of lyrical, rhythmic, or even humorous, I feel like my poems are childish and underdeveloped. Each time I come across another poetry post it makes me reflect on why I have such a block.
Here’s my most current theory: it’s all about imposter syndrome. I already lack confidence in my prose, but with poetry, there’s nowhere to hide. All that white space, just wide-open, inviting readers to scrutinize each word.
I need my dashes, my ellipses, my verbal ticks transcribed, to distract the reader from really knowing whether I’ve said anything at all.
Learn With Vivian 
Leave a comment