I used that term on Saturday in a tweet. Word-coloured lens. And, I liked it. I was making the point that my poetry - from teen years to now - has changed over time. Certainly, the way I write, has. It has become more ...mature, as is wont to happen with growth. Also, that through the word-lens, I could see the metamorphosis I had undergone. More than one, in fact. So, recording the fact of change - and how. In a more succinct way (the tweet): "Weird to behold metamorphosis through word-coloured lens. Core things remain- of course. I love thickly. Always have;always will. #PoemsToPC."
July has seen me typing these poems I've had over the years stashed away in note books and on folder leaves and post-its and jammed-printer paper and the clean side of fliers... Anything I could get my hands on when I needed to put pen or pencil to paper right away. Undertaking this compilation has been thrilling - funny, enlightening and thrilling. (Hoping to get it done for a book of poetry titled: "Fourteen to Forty: The Formative Years." Praying for God's guidance in that.) Now, the plan was to type about four to six per night. However, I think because there is some relief that my mind isn't at work creating the poems, there is ease in "just transcribing" and I get carried away to nine. Then I round it off. To ten.
Perhaps I'll share a bit more about the kind of change undergone in subsequent posts for July. We'll see. Before I go on to typing tonight's set, however, I wanted to share two poems with you. The first, at 17yo; the other at 41. (Maybe the book should be called Fourteen to Fortyish. Tee hee.) Anyway, take a look at what I mean. (And, the common "without" is sheer buck-up.)