It’s already April here in Australia and, as so often happens, it’s not until the day of April 1 or 2 that I remember that I had intended to participate in NaPoWriMo – “National Poetry Writing Month.” ‘National’ referring to the USA, so for some of us we use the term IntPoWriMo: “International Poetry Writing Month.”
As people who’ve been following me for a while (and thank you!) will know, I do try to share NaPoWriMo entries on my blogs. I am not as good at poetry as I am at writing, but I do enjoy the challenge. For reasons I haven’t yet ascertained, the whole Internet creative peer pressure thing seems to work for me. Even though I love creative writing, it often takes NaNoWriMo in November to prompt me to really sit down and start typing. In the case of NaPoWriMo, it is a reminder to try to think and read and compose poetic thoughts.
As April progresses I will try to develop some short poetic writings. I am well aware that it is not my strong point, so apologies in advance as I amateurishly attempt to compose satisfyingly rhythmic and onomatopoeic verses (no rhyming, sorry!) and share them on here. If you’re like me and enjoy poetry writing too, why not use NaPoWriMo as a prompt to give it a try? If not that, perhaps consider reading a poem a day. I personally love nature poetry, especially the sort that touches on the spiritual as revealed in nature. I’m thinking of Gerard Manley Hopkins and Mary Oliver here, and Oodgeroo of the Noonuccal (formerly Kath Walker), an Australian Indigenous poet who wrote pieces such as ‘The Curlew Cried’ and ‘White Australia.’
In past experience, while I am quite diligent in getting through NaNoWriMo, I haven’t always been that successful in NaPoWriMo. But, as always, I will give it a try. Sometimes I think it’s not so much about the finished product as it is about flexing underused creative muscles. Where drawing and story writing come naturally to me, poetry is far more difficult – but in some ways that’s what makes it fun. I’d much rather slave over the construction of a sentence and still write it terribly than waste away my days staring slack-jawed into the television screen (I will quietly ignore the terrifying number of hours I spend staring slack-jawed into the computer screen).