Poems and Scraps

 

I wrote over twenty-five poems for April's Poem-a-Day Challenge (another year I didn't "win"). When I was editing the viable pieces earlier this month, I had a brief flare of panic; I couldn't remember any other poems I wrote this year. Do I only pen new poems during challenge months now? Would I still be a "real poet" if I only had significant output two months out of twelve?

And then I took the travel notebook out of my purse.

And then I looked at the drafts section of my email.

And then I paged through the steno book I keep on my couch.

Although I'm not creating as much as I'd like, I've definitely written more than April's bounty. I just used to be better at transferring over scraps and scribbles to a master document. I jot down verses on van rides and forget as pain and brain fog gobble my attention. Ideas are scratched onto a torn page and then tucked inside a book as I get ready to sleep. I become coordinator and participant in a private, poetic scavenger hunt.

I edited around seventeen poems and two flash fiction pieces this month with a few difficult ones requiring more marination time in their own document. At least five of those were written prior to April. Several other poems aren't publishable in literary magazines but would make good Instagram posts.

It's a relief, knowing that I'm still getting words down (regardless of how slow it may be) year-round.