My resolve to publish a new poem every day is posing me with some intriguing challenges that I had not contemplated when I engaged in this process twenty-four days ago. I have never attempted a poetry marathon before — my usual poetic output over the years has come in spontaneous and erratic outpourings, usually prompted by Flora’s urging me to write some poetry — and am looking at the process of writing poetry with a new appreciation.
The challenge for me every day is to figure out where the day’s poem is going to come from. For the first two weeks, I had little difficulty discovering the inspiration — the impetus, if you will — that could lead me into the landscape from which I collect my poetic juice; I hardly had to think about it. Now, however, I find myself wondering if I am becoming repetitive, as if I am going back to the same threadbare patch of inspiration too often, and I am exploring my interior planet for new vistas, new springs of juice. In a sense, I am like the explorers who ventured to leave their continents to look for “new” lands, or more lately, like the scientists and politicians who are looking for new realms to invigorate their aspirations and imaginations.
Until recently, then, when I have settled down to write a new poem for the daily blog, I have been able, with perhaps one false start, to settle in pretty quickly to the day’s product; however, I am finding more and more that I must suspect that the process has been too easy, and too likely to become empty, threadbare. I am up against the need to challenge my chops with richer textures, more wonderful vistas.
I wonder where this sensibility will lead? One need only check in occasionally to see.