... and i don't even know it

it's true, people - last week, i wrote a poem.
now, poetry and i have a sketchy history. just the other day i re-discovered an excercise book full of angsty poetry from the dark years [1995-96]. i was looking for a notebook to scribble in and came across this pristine-looking, spiral-bound excercise book and thought 'this'd be perfect', but when i opened it up it was like a pandora's box of pain and suffering. and embarrassment. i swear (actually, i think i did swear when i opened the book)... but how crazy was i back then? obsessive is a mild, mild word. i could tell that my main influences at the time this poetry was penned were definitely that sprightly ray-of-sunshine writer, one ms. dorothy parker, and the uber-sparky lelaina pierce, played by winona ryder in that angsty classic, reality bites. looking back, i am so glad all i did was write angsty poetry. anyway, moving right along...

i wrote a poem last week and it kindve happened fast and without my brain's prior consent. i was to write something by the end of the week in response to a friend's paintings on the theme 'reflections on footscray'. i visited her and seen the paintings first hand the week before, and spent the rest of the day wandering around footscray to soak up the atmosphere (oh alright, i'll admit it - it was also to buy myself some bollywood dvd's, a box of jalebi, and a mixed ham roll from the vietnamese bakery while i was at it). so anyway, having done all this research, i spent the early part of the week wandering around thinking about what i was going to write. then i sat down at the computer thursday, knowing that the piece was due the day after, and began to write. and what came out, as much as i tried to pass it off as a piece of prose, was a poem.

let me just say i have nothing against poetry. i like some poetry, in the same way that i like some of the tracks off bjork's last album. the others, i don't necessarily dislike; i just don't understand them. so i will not presume to start calling myself a poet because i happened to write one piece that looks more like a poem than it does a short story. the few people i showed it to liked it, but as the majority of them were actually related to me, i'm not sure if i should rest on their opinions. i am toying with the idea of posting the poem on this website and getting you to give me feedback on it. let me know if you think i should.

anyway, the alleged poem did me a world of good - it seems to have gotten the rusty cogs in my head moving again, and i am now very near completing a short story, the idea for which had been lying dormant on my laptop for quite a while. and the direction this story has taken is a little different to anything else i've ever written before.

hmmm. nook + accidental poetry = interesting new writing.