College, Poems?

A Path

I’m slowly starting to realize what it is I actually want to write.

I thought for awhile that I wanted to get involved with Journalism. I loved the idea of travelling the world, exploring the life and the culture that’s beyond the limits of where I live… It seems (almost) glamorous. But the world, while beautiful, is a dangerous place. There’s certain things I wouldn’t be able to do in my life if I spent it travelling alone and writing stories.

But what about all the stories locked inside my head? They wouldn’t come out. All these concepts I have for short stories, poetry, novels… I can easily see myself getting wrapped up in chasing stories that I wanted to tell the world–I don’t think I’d have much time for my own works. I’ve always had a passion for writing stories, especially horrors and thrillers. Ever since I was in middle school, I’ve wanted to write something that could keep someone on the edge of their seat, holding them in suspense until they can’t take it anymore… And end with a cliffhanger.

That’s what I love about being able to study Professional Writing at Champlain College. I can specialize in Journalism, take all the courses they have to offer that can teach me that way of life so that if I ever change my mind again, I’m prepared. And at the same time, I’m free to take classes in creative writing and do what I love, follow what I’m passionate about.

So, for now, I’d like to talk about Robert M. Drake and Black Butterfly, one of his latest collections of poetry. His voice is inspiring, thought-provoking, life-changing. Drake’s modern style of writing poems is astounding–I had trouble putting the book down. It’s the first book that I’ve ever got a signed copy of, and I must say: it was worth it. Black Butterfly is something of beauty… A collection of everything beautiful about life, death, and the world between. I admire his style and the way his words made me think unlike any poem I’d read before.

IMG_20150730_184809I’ve decided to see what it may be like to write in a style like his; not by using his voice, but by using the structure to see what my voice as a poet and a writer can become. I wrote this poem while I was at the beach. I spent a night standing in the sand next to my boyfriend, staring out at the waves as they sparkled in the moonlight. It was a perfect moment, one that made me wish I had had a pen and a piece of paper so that I could sit down, right in the sand, and capture that moment… But I think I stared long enough to not only see the beauty in the waves, but imagine the beauty they held within them and the power and control that they have on us. I don’t think I can match his style perfectly… In fact, I wouldn’t want to. But I want to be able to capture the deeper moments of life as he does, to see the bright light in everything around us. I want to make everything we live through have beauty inside of it.

She Listened

And the waves crashed under the moonlight,
coaxing her to understand
their rhythmic sounds.

She let her mind wander
over to that boy she’d known long ago,
the one she let slip through her fingers.
What would her life have been like
if he’d stayed through all the fights?
Would the nights look as they did now?
Would she see more beauty
in the dark waters?

But the waves beckoned her back,
calling to her,
trying to make her see that if he’d stayed,
if everything she’d wished were different,
the world as she knows it
wouldn’t exist.

To anyone looking for something new to read, I highly recommend getting your hands on Black Butterfly. It’s captivating. Even the dedication is a work of art.

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