Hey there, welcome to the first edition of Poetry Night. I am an ardent writer of poetry and I have written no less than a 70 poem manuscript. Every week I will choose one night that I will be posting a poem that I have written or someone else has written that I feel must be shared. I hope you truly enjoy it. If you do not care for a particular poem, do not flee. I am a writer of vast variety and I can guarantee that the next Poetry Night will present a new genre of poem. As always, I truly urge you to give feedback: positive, constructive, and critical.
Back in Rockford, Illinois, I emailed the President of the local newspaper. I wrote to him that I wished to write for them in whatever position they could offer me so that I could build experience and my résumé. He forwarded my message to the Executive Editor and she emailed me what I had originally written to the President. The paragraph was exactly as I had written it, except…
On nearly every line, the font was red in one spot or another. At a glance, all you would see is red. Below my clearly edited paragraph was written a short and critical message. The Executive Editor began to say that if I were going to get the blogging position that I would have to improve my grammar, syntax, punctuation, and a list of other writing skills. I retained part her email and I would like to share it with you,
“I know getting edited by a stranger is tough to swallow, but if you were to blog for us, you’d need to improve your precision. Remember all those English teachers who were so focused on all that “stuff”? Well, we editors are even more Draconian about it.
Think you’re up for this? I hope so” – Linda (Executive Editor)”
It may not seem like a harsh message now, but at 15 years old, I was crushed. Since then, I recall her message when people give me negative criticism. It happens. People get yelled at. People express their opinions in *different* ways. So do not worry about putting things lightly, unless you want it to show your true character. I appreciate ALL feedback. In addition, I am interested in all of your poetry. Email me your favorite, best, or worst writing. I might just want to share it instead of my own next Poetry Night: TheGarthBox@Gmail.com
The Writing Ghost
The ghosts’ long sleeves, held hands tilting the sun.
We watched our own hands full of thick shakes, disappear.
They stare back, They wanted our gaze.
We spoke to the blind, to a world where a
String locks haunted paths that
Link a dark world in the next ghost.
Only the blind course our insane, voices in their arms,
An old crouched spirit knotted silent screams.
A warm bark pressed my chest – an apparatus.
Alone, in a way sane people are not a part of the world.
Scratched membranes need to stand,
Separate from a blank today.
That! sorts those who do not discover
themselves, their world in a way legalizing critical passion.
Everybody is stoned, pathetic, so strange,
We have joined a multitude of tears.
Elusive but those show us our differences
Between; people part of the world and those not.
Observe moments. truly keeping random peoples blueprints.
– Everett
Stay Positive and Poetic
Garth E. Beyer
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