Thoughts On Writing Poetry
edited: Saturday, February 28, 2004
By Addie Williams & Katie Fairchild
Rated "G" by the Author.
Posted: Saturday, February 28, 2004
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Excerpt from Addie Williams journal dated Feb. 22, 1982. Readers need to remember that as her daughter typing this, it was typed from her long hand writting, (which at times is very hard to read), so if the punctuation is wrong, I am sure it was on my behalf, as I was not the english teacher.
Poetry is a disease which I never knew till now. It infects the welling spirit with the exponential
expression of all itself in concentration as it condenses in its own essence and plummets to the depth and density of its own black hole of self-devouring involution. It is to powerful to leave to run its own course, like a cold. It must at times be abruptly stopped in its trajectory with all the delicacy and fines of a sledge hammer en route to the center of an oak stump.
The composition of poetry releases the soul to too much liberty and too little discipline of the earth bound. It can almost totally release the spirit to abandon and certainly to spiritual license, which goes beyond the traditional benevolence of mere poetic license (that is, verbal and artistic license). The danger implicit here is that the spirit became vain, intoxicated with the easy freedom gained from verbal rapture, that it may soar all through the verbal abysses of the mind where genetics and learning and hope and fear are stored and strike a discordant, inexact formula upon the exuding juice of the mix, and call its truth - innocently, even redundantly - sometimes inaccurately.
Moreover, the poet cannot divorce his or hers poetic mysticism from their flesh and blood realism, wherein veins flow with chemical prediction and neurons vibrate to circumstance.
What can be said with poetry that cannot be said with prose? Soul, that's what. Soul directly
rather than "round the mulberry bush".
Poetry sings the essence of truth artfully and displays naked the anatomy of truth in a golden halo of sublimity or of abject ugliness fitted to the aesthetic quality of the raw truth that it lays bare.
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|Reviewed by PAULA LESLIE (Reader)
|Gosh, I sure wish that I had Addie for an English teacher. I would probably have been a much wiser person and a much better writer if I had the opportunity to hear her wonderful and wise opinions.
I loved this entry. I have never heard or read anything as beautiful as this about writing. It is exactly the the emotions I go through! I can't stop writing until my thoughts are done. I write the words that God sends to me and lay all my emotions out on paper, some read and others don't. Afterwards I feel drained and relieved all at once. It is an emotional experience for me when I write. I wonder if menopause will have the same effect? I hope not!
I envy people who knew her and was taught by her. I hope they realize what a wonderful opportunity they have experienced and can appreciate her teachings and the penmanship she left as a legacy to continue teaching others. I would be a little upset if I knew otherwise.
Gosh, I wish I could express my thoughts better than this. I guess I am so in awe of how she expressed herself about writing, (and that I feel the same way and experience the same emotions), I am in total shock that someone else would really know how it feels to lay your soul on paper, hoping that others will understand it or hoping that others will be comforted (whether they smile, laugh or cry). I have had a couple of wonderful teachers, but they never expressed the true feelings and thoughts as great as this. Thank you so very much for sharing this entry. Now this is my favorite. As much as I love to read her wise words, this is how it all starts for a student to understand to begin. A wonderful piece.
Maybe this entry should be submitted to a writing magazine. It would be a great writing tool to help others write from their soul and keep potential great writers from quitting. I love you, Paula
|Reviewed by Michelle Kidwell Power In The Pen
|this was an excellent write...
|Reviewed by Dan Summerfield (Reader)
Your mother's wisdom overwhelms me. This is the essence of poetry and prose when done with the soul and not just the mind.