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first time you wrote a peom


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Not sure how long ago this would have been... I know we did a lot of poetry in third grade, but I also remember loving to do it... so I was probably willingly completing assigned poetry :pickaxe:

 

Now when it comes to analyzing poems or, god forbid, writing an essay on one... yeah, thats teacher induced. I may think about poetry while I'm reading it, consider what meanings it could have, what meanings I can get out of it for myself, but I have never sat there and thought to myself "hmm... I wonder what type of figurative language this is?" or "What sort of archaic english word that noone other than an english professor would know should I use to describe how they arranged this particular sentence?"

 

Art, no matter the form, should never be forced, nor reduced to technical terms that boil away its beauty. It destroys the point of it and detracts from what might otherwise have resulted in a genuine appreciation of it.

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The first time I ever wrote a poem... was of my own choice, and it was about suicide. I think I was probably five or six. It was after my dad had been being an asshole or something... yeah, I know, I'm a very strange puppy, lol.

 

Now, I consider when I actually started writing poetry to be around the beginning of my sophomore year of high school. That was some of my best, for sure. Twas your typical teenage poetry, sure, but it really meant something to ME, and that was what mattered, not what anybody ever said about it. I got comments from "Omg, that's the best poem I've ever read" to "You suck so much that you should die from being in a vacuum", so it didn't matter to me, as long as I was happy with what I wrote. :D

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The first time I wrote a poem of my own volition, was shortly before I had carved into my skin with a razor. Cheerful 'eh?

 

 

Yay for self medication 'weed' and therapy. Trust me.. Prozac just makes you gain weight. The weed is much more effective. Even a salad can taste like the last supper when properly 'mediated'.

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It seems like a lot of people start writing after some horridly traumatic event...

 

I think it really is good therapy, though. It at least allows you to organize your feelings into some semblance of order, and lets you think them out a bit. Poetry is good. ~nods~ As for Prozac... ah, not so much (though I do think self-medication with drugs is a very dangerous and needless route).

 

I really wish I could FIND that first poem, it would be nice to have... but then I'm a packrat, so yeah. :D

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  • 1 month later...

First time I wrote a poem had to be in 6th grade in the school's writing club. It was about advertising, I guess at 10 I thought making a point about my views on society seemed really important. Then song lyrics, then "real" poetry when I was in college.

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I would write poetry in my journal. I think I started about fourth or fifth grade. I was forced to write poetry in school, starting about sixth grade.

 

I remember one stand off I had with a teacher. The assignment was to reflect upon MLK's speech "I have a dream" and write a poem about what the speech means to you. Stupidest assignment I ever had, and I told the teacher so. Well that didn't go over too well, as you can imagine. I ended up sitting at that desk all day because I had been told I was not getting up until I completed the assignment. With a rumbling stomach, and a full bladder I finally gave in around 10 pm and scribbled "something" down on the page. She said it was the worst thing she had ever read. I didn't care, but to make a point I demanded that it be submitted into the school's poetry contest anyway. Damn thing took first place. Heh, I guess the rest of the poems must have been really bad. That poem ended up going National where it placed but did not win. I didn't care. It just proved to me that sometimes teachers don't know squat.

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  • 1 year later...
I would write poetry in my journal. I think I started about fourth or fifth grade. I was forced to write poetry in school, starting about sixth grade.

 

I remember one stand off I had with a teacher. The assignment was to reflect upon MLK's speech "I have a dream" and write a poem about what the speech means to you. Stupidest assignment I ever had, and I told the teacher so. Well that didn't go over too well, as you can imagine. I ended up sitting at that desk all day because I had been told I was not getting up until I completed the assignment. With a rumbling stomach, and a full bladder I finally gave in around 10 pm and scribbled "something" down on the page. She said it was the worst thing she had ever read. I didn't care, but to make a point I demanded that it be submitted into the school's poetry contest anyway. Damn thing took first place. Heh, I guess the rest of the poems must have been really bad. That poem ended up going National where it placed but did not win. I didn't care. It just proved to me that sometimes teachers don't know squat.

What an interesting story! Just to clarify did you actually write the word "something" as the extent of your poem, or was that the name of it, or were you just being vague because you can't really remember and/or don't want to tell us?

 

The first time I recall writing poetry was 3rd grade. It got published, but then it was only up against other elementary school works so I guess that's not saying too much. It did spark an interest in writing that eventually extended to full stories however :) (I don't just mean now, I mean back then too)

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