Self-Declared Prose Poetry Writer
I was in a somewhat odd mood Sunday night, and as the result was writing prose. I just looked up prose, as I was curious if my usage of the word was accurate to the content of my writing. It is a general term that can be used to describe any writing that resembles everyday speech. Probably most of what I write fits loosely in this very broad category. However, the following work is probably more accurately described by the term prose poetry. My writing often contains bits and pieces of structure, meter, versification and so on, halfway between prose and poetry. Prose poetry is the perfect term to describe how I often write when in introspective moods. I consider it a high compliment to have my writing fall into a similar category to how King David wrote Psalms. Of course his words are far more emotional, poignant and structured. When translated into English, moreover, some of the original Hebrew literary devices are lost, and the result resembles prose poetry.
Sometimes I specifically set out to write poetry: using rhythm and rhyme. When I'm not trying any particular literary style, my normal writing style is rather boring, lengthy and unworthy of any particular title or style declaration (some CSS for thought: .MyDefaultWriting { style:none; }). For now, I'm going to share some of my recently written prose poetry:
Writer's Block, Cell & Hell: Don't Throw Away the Keys!
a prose poem by Me, April 20, 2008
The obvious has sunk in: these pens will be my utter undoing. Or rather they are the least of my worries. Sometimes it is the silent ones gone unnoticed, flying under the radar, that end up having the most profoundly sinister effect. Three sentences in and I already haven't a clue, lost track, lost sight, strayed, off on a tangent, incomplete thought, badly formed sentence. Each sentence is a verdict: guilty for life, self-condemned without trial or jury. The lines become the rigid iron bars upon which I ponder, to bend and escape. Even so, I have nowhere to retreat, and so I give in. Doomed to plod on and on without a pause, without applause, without cause, just because.