So hopefully I am able to become accustomed to this whole poetry thing. Is it a thing? An art? A random assortment of words? I guess it is all of the above. The premiere night of my Poetry Workshop ensued tonight, and I now find myself mystified by a question my professor placed upon us, “What is Poetry?” Considering the last poem I wrote must have been in Creative Writing with Ms. Hecht Junior year of HS, I am not sure my creative muscle with stand up against those of my peers. Along with opening the doors to my artistic ability once again, I witnessed a rift form tonight. A rift between the will and will not’s, the do’s and do not’s, the shall I say, exhibitionists and hermits. It baffles me that while some people can word vomit for over 10 minutes about what a small poem exercise meant to them, some tremble at the thought of reciting their personal thoughts. It gives me a whole new definition to the words shy, embarrassed, or even withdrawn.
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