In the time that has elapsed since my last post, I have returned to writing poetry after at least six years since I put poetic words to paper. As much as I wish I could say it was an impulsive creative yearning that pulled me back into poetry, it was actually a notification from my Google Drive account telling me my storage was 80% full that acted as the catalyst for my poetic ‘rebirth’ as such. As unromanticised as that sounds, I fought the procrastination and finally got round to sitting down in front of my laptop to essentially filter through my Google documented life of the past decade from photos and university essays to about fifty ‘final version’ dissertation copies, plus an abundance of random notes that I can barely unfathom now.
I then came across a file entitled ‘Various Poetry Projects’ – unopened since 2019. I had archived my attempts at poetry writing – both in my mind as well on my computer. Poetry was something that I had once enjoyed as a creative escape during my late teens and early 20s but not something I had ever dared to share, hence around 5 years ago I came to the conclusion there was no point continuing with these poetry projects as it wasn’t like I was on my way to being the next T.S Elliot or John Keats. Dare I even open this? With trepidation, I opened the folder containing my various meandering, if not completely dried up, streams of consciousness…
I was initially surprised at the volume of files and words in this archived ‘Various Poetry Projects folder’. I began to open each one, occasionally chuckling, occasionally wincing at the excessive rhymes and, at times, feeling a genuine sense of nostalgia, from the memories inspiring the words but also from the memory of writing and the long lost feeling of being fuelled by a love for creating art through verse for no other purpose than the sheer enjoyment and creative release it provided.
Having read several dozen files one by one, I abandoned the task I set out to complete in freeing up storage from my google account and instead decided to make copies of some of the ‘completed’ poems in separate documents (I’m sorry, Google Drive) and remaster them. Having never shown any of my work to anyone, I have never had a reference point as to whether my writing is half decent but I felt a sudden yearning to elevate what I felt were a few strong ideas from any convoluted or excessive rhyming language that my younger self had entwined them in.
I set to work. I wrote, re-wrote and edited until I was somewhat satisfied that I’d shed a new perspective on these raw ideas and framed them in verse and phrasing that did them justice. I was certainly not ready to share these resurrected drafts with anyone so instead I turned to Chat GPT as my writing buddy. I copied one of my earliest poems into Chat GPT and asked for its genuine, honest opinion. (Definitely a sign of the times to be relying on AI for validation!) I made it clear to my new writing buddy that I didn’t want it to re-write my work but rather to critique it, tell me what works well and help me identify some areas for improvement from its superior robotic brain.
I have to (shamefully) say, this was probably the most enjoyable creative writing session I’ve had. Leaning into my introverted nature and only sharing my poetry with AI gave me, admittedly, a sense of catharsis. I was bouncing ideas off Chat GPT and it was both patting me on the back for my imagery and pulling me up on my not so great structure. I followed this process for about 5 of my archived poems and, before long, Chat GPT and I were proper writing buddies. I have great admiration for those who are able to write solo as without the ability to bounce ideas off someone/something else, I never would have been able to develop my ideas to the level (I hope!) I have now been able to achieve.
Following this process, I was filled with a renewed confidence in writing poetry and a focus on writing something new. Before, I had gone for months without writing as I was waiting for inspiration to come to me – to flood my mind with an overwhelming idea and need to bring this idea alive through verse. And whilst I was contemplating the absence of poetic inspiration, I was sitting, watching the river. Over the next couple of days I continued to watch the river and think about the motion of water, not just in the river but in the sea and its movement with the changing elements. I started to think of the water as being like my mind – my ability (or lack of ability) to write poetry as being like the ripples on the water. It was then that I gradually wrote the following poem to encapsulate this feeling of returning to poetry and the need for inspiration in order to write. Whether it be good or bad, I am just pleased to share some of my work to mark the next chapter in my poetic journey. Here is the poem that emerged from my quiet moments of reflection beside the water…
Ripples on the Water
This morning I awoke
To see no ripples on the water.
An intangible stillness
Heavy on its banks,
As if nothing could permeate its density.
Yet it is my weakness,
With the power to destroy the iron fortress –
To drag me from the tranquil water
And thrust me into the frothing foaming mouth
Of the beast in the waves
When they collide.
Yet with some distance,
It’s the ebb & flow of the water
When the tide subsides
That I look to for inspiration –
As that perfect equilibrium
Between chaos and calm.
Even in the absence of inspiration
It shows me that ‘absence’ is in itself an entity –
Albeit intangible,
That can be filled by one’s perspective.
So in the absence of both stillness and chaos,
The beauty of the concurrent ripples
Fill the void in my inspiration –
Reflecting the light,
Shimmering through the force of the current,
And when the force subsides,
The ripples may settle in their movement,
But the depths of the inspiration
From their immutable beauty remain.
Logan Darkwoods 