Wednesday, March 30, 2011

The One on I Write Poetry


Maybe this is just a response post to that pretty freaking amazing picture I found a few weeks ago.
Maybe not.

The other day my guitar teacher told me about how he was having one of those days where everything is negative; as in, negative vibes, for nothing is coming to you.
To my "hmm" he responded "in those cases, one needs to meditate."
And what I answered? Not "hmm" but "yes... or write."

Write what? 

More than just in a journal to Anne (Anne is what is Kitty to Anne Frank), I do admit I'm a poet.

And not in a hyperbolic sense. (Although I do believe that anyone who wants to, has the write to call oneself a poet.)

Somerset Maugham once said something like (and I am not at all quoting here) that an artist is not a person who excells in creating art, but a person who can't live without creating art.
(I might look for that quote. After all, I have the book and Maugham is one of my favorite authors.)

I can't live without writing.

If something happy happens, I must jot it down, or if something unhappy happens, I will find no peace until those feeling are immortalized.
A beautiful scenery spring beautiful verses in my head. 
A horrible news not only brings tears to my eyes, but words in the form of silent whisper.

I don't know what it is, that some people, me, for example, just can't live without writing, without literature, without poetry.

Are you a poet?

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