Old Town New York

Old Town New York

So it’s been well over a year since my spate of poetry. This is mainly because at the time I was writing for emotional release. My disillusionment with writing as a means of problem solving became apparent in some of my language.

“Simple yet poignant,
elegant, but ointment,
the words make no sense,

I’m fighting for the sake of it,
writing for a stake in it,
a better life…
a better mind?

You decide.”

Don’t get me wrong, the process was great for getting a grip on reality and processing grief, but it wasn’t solving anything practical. So I, in large part, dispensed with rhythmic wordplay in exchange for a more hands on approach to righting the ship.

However, recently a writer friend of mine has suggested a way to keep developing poetry without the need to be so inextricably tied to the material.

She nick-names them joke poems, in that they have no deeper meaning apart from the personae that they embody. However, I believe a cleaner definition would be something akin to “inspiration poetry”. The general idea is that you find a song or image and write about it. She personally likes to give each poem a “personality”.

It’s a bit of fun. This post is about my first one. I used a song and afterward found an image that matched what I was thinking about when writing. That image is the featured image for this post.

A unique aspect of this piece, is that I decided to experiment with something I read about recently. A method that focuses on preserving the first draft.

This concept basically revolves around the idea that over-editing can lead to loss of key information and meaning. Particularly information that is generated during the initial phase of conception. Although the examples used mostly focus on fiction and academic literature; it helped me to put into perspective some interesting thoughts on idea generation and development. I decided to give it a go but in short form; hence the poetry.

I also intentionally didn’t edit anything. Such an extreme example was not recommended by the author, as it was never stressed the editing is useless. I just wanted to try out writing something in a single take.

Here is the inspiration piece: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjmFpiv6xjs.

And here is the poem:

Old New York,
Old cold town,
rusted filings, cover the ground,
silver gateways, encrusted with snow.

Fading archways, with golden glow,
fleeting evanescence that seeps away,
somehow not visible, during the day.

A paler shade, of deeper feel,
a lighter day for wanting to heal,
the music echoes, and the sound carries,
at least I’m here, before I’m married.

And the world,
 keeps sliding on by,
at least I’m around,
 to make use of this sky,
while it’s here, and so am I,
Try not to tarry, try not to cry.

It’s been a while,
walking in the world,
been a while,
 trying not to fall.

And yet I’m here,
somehow alone,
and yet I’m here,
somehow come home.

In old New York city,
the perennial supplier of Stockholm syndrome.

I also realise that the more I write these days, the more that what comes out is in lyric form. That is, that it is less of a traditional poem, and more akin to a musical piece. This being said, I am currently teaching myself how to play the piano and practicing singing. So maybe one day I can adapt them accordingly and they can enjoy a second life on stage.

In the meantime, I hope a couple of people can get something out of this. I enjoyed the experience, and with any luck, I’ll post a few more at a point in the near future. Thanks for your time.