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Tara Strickland Miss Eaker ENGL 1101-073 11 October 2013 Poetic Experiences: A Personal Literacy Narrative Poets are formed and molded by their experiences. When a poem is written, its author is usually experiencing something that encouraged him or her to write it. Different experiences bring about different emotions, and different emotions can bring about different types of poems. It would not surprise me if there is a direct correlation between experiences a person has been through and the poetry they write. I am a poet, and all of my poems were written during a time when I was experiencing something that greatly affected me either negatively or positively. Throughout my life, my poetry changed as my experiences changed. "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." Reading those words by Robert Frost sent a chill down my nine-year-old spine as a grin crept across my face. I stared at the words as my eyes lit up and a fire was ignited inside my heart. The way those words were so beautifully arranged into a metaphor, that I could identify with, hit a chord inside me that would ring for another nine years. I needed to be a poet. I needed to make peoples' hearts skip a beat by reading a few lines of one of my original poems. I needed to move people to tears in such a simple way as putting words on a piece of paper. In my fourth grade class, while reading The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost, a poet was born. I started out writing free verse. Free verse poems are poems that have no rhyme scheme or meter patterns. They don't have a beat or rhythm. It is easier for me to write in free verse

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because my thoughts are not restricted by the fact that the words I want to use have to rhyme with another word. Following a rhyme scheme and/or meter keeps me from writing exactly how I feel. The main reason I started writing poetry is because it is cathartic. Writing out my feelings in a way that sounded beautiful was much more satisfying to me than just writing in a journal. I also loved that I could read a poem a few weeks after I wrote it and get goosebumps from what I wrote. I quickly fell in love with poetry and I made writing poems a habit. My love for poetry was recognized when I got a letter from a publishing company asking me to allow them to publish one of my poems. When I opened the letter and realized what it was asking me for, I screamed and ran around the house with excitement. I just couldn't believe a publishing company would be interested in a young, amateur poet like me. They had read one of my poems online and were interested. I was only twelve years old. I felt it would be a terrible idea to pass up an opportunity like that, so I sent in a poem called "Sunset" and they published it. I have been published by them three times: once in 7th grade, once in 8th, and once in 9th. I was sent a copy of two of the books I was published in: Collected Whispers and Eternal Heartland. When I got Collected Whispers, I ripped the box open and jumped up and down when I saw it was my book. It was my first time being published, so I felt on top of the world. I took it to school with me and wanted to show it to everybody. I didn't keep it in my backpack though; instead, I walked to all of my classes while clutching the book in my arms. I decided I should probably leave the book at home when I dropped it one day on my way back from gym. The book fell out of my hands, bounced off the pavement, and the corner of the book got dented. I picked it up, noticed the dent, and continued going to my next class with a lump in my throat and water in my eyes. The book hasn't left my bookshelf since then.

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Ninth grade was a tough year for me. I met a guy and thought I had fallen in love. I thought he was the one I was going to marry. I thought he was "the one." When he hurt, I hurt. When he smiled, I smiled. He meant more than the world to me and I would have done anything for him. He and I were close, too. We would text from 6am until we fell asleep that night. We would text each other in school, at church, everywhere. I told him everything. He knew I was in love with him, but, sadly, the feelings were not reciprocated. I texted him one day and reminded him, "I love you." He responded, "I know. And I feel bad about that." "Why?" "Because you seem pretty head over heels to me, and I can't return the sentiments. I wish I could, believe me. It hurts me to know you're hurting like this. I can't choose who I fall in love with, but trust me, I wish I could" To cope with unrequited love, I wrote. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. I wrote everywhere and at every time of the day. I took a special binder to school with that was specifically for me to write poems. As my teachers gave brutally boring lectures, I sat in the back of the class in my own little world. I rarely just posed motionless while staring at a blank page. Words just poured out of me. "The bridge between us is both my friend and my enemy; It joins us together, but at the same time it separates us. Its made of wood, so it could easily burn down, it could easily be destroyed, holding me from you forever." My exact feelings for him could not be put into words, but I spent hours, days, and weeks trying to find words that could capture the way I felt for him. I never did it. I wrote over one hundred poems in less than a year and none of them accurately reflected the way I felt for him. However, in the end, all the poems I wrote really helped me grow as a writer. I got a great deal of writing experience from that one personal

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experience. Even though that was one of the most painful experiences of my life, I am thankful for it because I would not be the writer I am today had I not gone through that. After that experience, the amount of writing I did dramatically increased. I probably wrote about a poem or two per month. I had times where it would pick up to about five poems per month, but I have not written as frequently as I did my freshman year of high school. Without an enormously powerful feeling overwhelming me, like love, I couldn't find anything worth writing about. I lost the motivation to write. Fortunately, my twelfth grade English teacher Mr. Reilly is just as passionate about poetry as I am. One of the writing assignments the class had to do was to write a sonnet. I had never written a sonnet before, but once he explained how they're written and showed us some examples, I was so excited that I wrote one while he was giving us the directions. I wrote six sonnets that day. I e-mailed them to Mr. Reilly and asked for his input. I wanted to make sure I was doing them right. I also wanted to know how I could make them better. I had never before had a teacher who had a particular interest in poetry. He was the first, so I was excited to share poems with him and get advice about how to make them better. He gave me some great advice. I remember telling him that the structure of one of my poems seemed awkward, but I couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong. He responded with, "Read your poems out loud. Sometimes it's easier to catch mistakes when you can hear them instead of just seeing them. If something sounds off or doesn't flow well, you'll hear it." I use that advice even when I'm writing essays. It's a very useful thing to know. Hearing things out loud really does help when it comes to editing and catching mistakes. I went through a few weeks when I had "writer's block." Mr. Reilly approached me after class one day and asked, "How are the poems coming? You haven't e-mailed me in a while."

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"Eh," I responded. "I can't get the motivation to write anymore. I mean, I have plenty of thoughts and feeling to write about, I just don't know how to put them into words." "Ah, yes, but that's what makes it art." Those words resonated in me and I marinated in that thought for the rest of the day. He had a great point and he stated it beautifully. It changed the way I see poetry. I used to consider it a hobby, but now I really do see it as an art. Mr. Reilly really inspired me and encouraged me to do better in more writing styles than just poetry. He is one of the best teachers I have ever had, and I think I liked him so much because we shared a common interest and formed a bond through it. I am a better writer now because of him. I definitely owe a lot of my recent successes in writing to him. From how far I've come in my writing development, it's safe to assume I will continue to grow in my future. I expect to become a better writer with each poem I write. In the past, my experiences tremendously impacted my writing, and I fully expect them to continue to impact and influence my writing.