Nothing actually stands between saying, “The river sang,” and “It was as if the river sang,” other than a set of rigid rules that forbids the former from being more than a metaphor. -Fr. Stephen Freeman
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Poetry Is a Bird
Poetry is a bird.
Prose is....a potato.
So said Billy Collins, two-time American Poet Laureate, this past weekend at a conference I attended in Nashville.
It has made me rethink my whole blog.
I have had poetry on the blog,
and I have had birds on the blog.
But I've also had a whole lot of potatoes on the blog.
So here is word of gratitude to you loyal potato eaters (my least favorite Van Gogh, by the way....) Thank you for reading my prose-filled blog entries!
And to relieve you of the boredom of eating potatoes, here is a poem I came across, written by yours truly in fifth grade, I believe. I also wrote music to go with it, but I don't know how to put that on here just now. (With the music it comes aross more rhythmically than it does on its own.)
Look into my eyes,
And you will have a surprise,
Because I wear false eyelashes.
NB: for the record, I never had false eyelashes. I do remember learning of their existence and thinking them a very strange thing. Thus the little song.
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5 comments:
False eyelashes?! :-)
That's funny!!! LOL
Did you want them?
No, I don't think I ever wanted them. I just thought they were weird!
Sheila, I enjoy your prose and your poetry because I enjoy YOU.
I enjoy reading everything you write on your blog. Thanks for growing the potatoes once-in-awhile.
I was part of the newspaper staff in high school. This was after H.A. I kept copies of papers in which I had articles for the longest time. To this day, I guess my assumption is they were tossed at some point to make room for more stuff.
I love birds and potatoes. But you can't get fat on birds, or prose come to that...
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