I found this poem I wrote in 2004 and thought I’d post it in honor of the brave contestants in the Genesis contest. I judged 7 gifted writers. All of them had talent. All of them were beyond beginner in their craft . . . and most of them had too much weight in their ms. It reminded me of the third stanza of this poem and my own struggle to hone craft.
I hope you enjoy this silly ditty written one day in frustration. I dedicate it to anyone who’s written enough to discover just how much they have to learn. Blessing to all!
In Honor of Genesis
Fuzzy, just beyond the grasp of my mind they float
I reach for them with a cry
But I can’t claim them
They allow me to play with them, try to put them in a colorful array
But they mock me with their black and white boredom
They tease me with stoic normalcy and refuse to come to life
They’ll line up, march in a row, even make sense
But they won’t sing for me
They won’t dance
They won’t show their splendor
I am angry with them
Furious that I cannot escape their enticement
If they won’t become all I dream they can
If they won’t give their best for me
Why can’t they leave me alone?!
My fingers move upon the keyboard
Trying to find a tune, a rhythm
Rarely do my fingers plod or probe
They rush across the letters, writing word after word
But of what?
Clichés, too much back story, overwrought description
Heavy words, their very weight hiding their glory
Behind thick curtains of too much
Find the core, the seed of emotion and character I am told
Unmask the gem, let it shine!
But my brain is thick
I hear the instruction, feel the breathless desire
And work with awkward hand and clouded mind
I don’t know how
Why do the words claim me?
Why can’t the story let me rest?
If they won’t behave
And give me their all,
Why won’t they just go away?
PS Hope to see you all at HIS Writers on Monday. We’re so excited to have Susan May Warren all the way from MN!