I was reading a book two days ago where a poet mentioned that reading poetry could make you a better fiction writer and it crossed my mind as quite possibly true. I use quite and possibly because, these things tend to be individual; i.e. what works for this writer might not work for another.
Looking back to the now distant beginnings of my writing life, I started as a reader. I read all the historical romances and adventures of those slim abridged novels; Robinson Crusoe, Silas Marner, David Copperfield, Tales of Two Cities, Oliver Twist, Lambs Tales from Shakespeare, Allan Quartermain, Forty-nine steps, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.These books and more were the foundation of my writing career. Attached to a vivid imagination and a tumultuous course in English language and literature, I was good to go.
But when I wrote my first poems, they were basically prose written in stanzas. I was imitating Byron without a clue as to technique or style or diction. I tried my hand at sonnets which I found strenuous, but I was still writing prose. It was not until I turned to free verse that I found a modicum of poesy in my writing. I was still a neophyte though and these free verse Poems I painstakingly copied into a diary had only one truth; they were honest.
It took years of writing and reading novels to arrive at a point where the shimmer of light at the end of the tunnel began to dawn on me. I mean, my poems were becoming more robust, I was comprehending the essence of what a poem should look like and metaphors became a thing and even a theme for me. It got to a point where my poems became difficult to read, sometimes even by me. Yet I was only reading fantasy novels now, having removed myself from the colonial rhetoric of those earlier books to focus on the promise of what a world can be like if left to decay. Which is better I don't know.
Fantasy novels in its intrinsic nature gave me the platform to explore ideas I once thought improbable. It allowed me the path to experimentation and it was at this same time, I discovered steemit and steemit discovered me. I was writing stories and people were loving it. I learnt to interweave poetry into my stories, creating hybrid forms of expression. In all this, I was still seeking what that bourgeoning light had promised.
Once again I became stomped. I got to read people's works and began to see how isolated I was as a writer. I had no idea of what the greatest poets of any generation had done to achieve the writings that have blessed the world so richly. I last read a poet at the university. Suddenly I was curious. I needed to know what these people did, how they did it and what was the consequences of their doing. Thus, my dears began my affair with poetry collections, anthologies, background history and the like. The Marginalia, a philosophy based labour of love also gave me vast insight into the life and times and even their processes, of writers. All of these, I wielded together and somehow I was able to fashion something, poetry.
I have read poets from different parts of the world, refusing to pigeonhole myself to any school and I can say, I am yet to meet the light at the end. What I have though is a writing that has no particular style beyond it's treatment of theme or subject matter. Poetry is still deeply automated for me. That is how I began and I still stick to it. It has remained heavily metaphorical because I enjoy words taking me to places I least expect but I'm more aware of words now. I'm more focused on the purpose of the word in the poem. I'm learning how to apply emotions as well and also, saying what needs saying no matter how difficult.
Recently, I won an award in visual verse anthology and it felt good. It felt true, like all the work is finally coming together. Then I read a poet say awards, publications while good for validation are temporary. After winning a contest or getting published, what happens next? You cannot lean on that spotlight forever. It fades off, the stage darkens, people forget. The only thing that lasts is the poem. After I'm gone, the poem will be its own master, saying the things that needs saying to the one who needs to hear them.
At the end, we all seek validity. We need to be needed, to be important. We need the world to see us. Is that not why we are here on hive? Attention economy? To be noticed so we can get paid? But the true artist looks beyond the upvote and the exchange rate. They look for what the art says, how to keep the art true, how to build the craft to a point of satiation. Yes the money is good but the poem in me is concerned only about the best form in which it can step into the limelight.
At the end, my understanding is reading has helped me by far, whether prose or poetry, in my writing journey. I might not be where I want to be but I'm moving and I know this not because I get awards and publications but because I read what I write and compare with previous work and I see the difference. I see the growth and that too can be enough.
One is always thankful for spaces like these that cater to writers. It is not always easy having an audience especially in a world where attention is the biggest asset every company or business wants to own. To keep people focused on your writing, validate your efforts means a lot and you know this. So to those who keep the engines fumbling along on this here steam ship, I thank you. It is not perfect but it is ours. It is ours.
