If I made a list of every wonderful idea I’ve had for poems–just incandescent. They’re absolutely clear and perfect and unassailable. Sometimes they happen right before I fall asleep or while I’m driving. Sometimes in the middle of a conversation with someone who might not be amused if I said, “Oh, that would be a great poem.” Then they vanish before I get back to my computer.
I have tried to combat the problem of forgetting these Platonic Perfections of Poetry by recording the ideas on my phone while I’m driving, walking, what have you. I’ve written them on my hand. Sometimes, I’ve even looked at them again, sometimes I’ve tried to pin them down to paper. But somewhere between the firing of my synapses and touching the keyboard or the pen to paper, something happens and they deflate.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. Some survive, and I’m very grateful for those. And some of those are close enough to what they were when they were just twinklings in my eye, but many more slip through the cracks. This blog is meant to codify those.
For example, a bird flew into our window today. Phil (my husband) went outside to check on it. I might not have done that. But he did, and he offered it seed, and then it got up and ran out the gate. Now he thinks its wing is broken. I haven’t looked out the window to see if it’s still there. This still might become a poem. Maybe for me, maybe for you. Let me know if you get it figured out.
7/7/2022
Melody Wilson 