Practising poetry

I used to write poetry all the time when I was young, from before I was in secondary school and then all the way through and into my student days. Somehow, for some reason i stopped… loss of confidence? Being too critical? Not realising how much work needs to be done to make any piece of writing as good as it can be? Lack of interest? Writing stories and other things? Too busy? Probably a mixture of all of those things!

Over the last little while I’ve drifted back into writing in a poetic way again… I won’t say poems, I’m not sure what I write is actually poetry, maybe just writing in a poetic way?

I had to be somewhere at a particular time yesterday, and as usual I arrived early. I realised as I found a parking space that I had nothing to write on, nothing to write with, which is most unusual. I’m forever buying notebooks to put in my bag, and pens, but for some reason I’d taken the most recent purchase out of my bag and now, horror, I had not even an odd bit of paper, there was not even a random pen knocking about in the car.

I left my parking place and found a small convenience store and fortunately they had pens… and what they described as a shopping pad, a perfect size, 3 inches x 8 inches…

Back in the car, back in the same parking space, I opened the book which was just right for something poetic I had in mind by this time:

There’s something wrong
with not having
a pen or paper;
something to write on
something to write with.

Search for an old receipt
a scrap, a torn off
shred, a piece
of newsprint,
something to write on.

Something to write with
a finger on a keypad,
a small touch screen,
will just

Somehow, I’ve made
a quartet;
four five-line verse.
Somehow I made

© Lois Elsden 2019

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