And a few years ago, at my science-based workplace, they hosted a contest for short-stories, photography, and poetry. I submitted three poems and as it turns out I was the only one who did so. I didn’t get a single comment on them when they were posted on the internal website.

So I generally let someone else bring up poetry before I volunteer info. Like when I was at a symposium this summer and a women there mentioned that a poetry group met in the library, yet they couldn’t tell her (a non-poet) what poetry WAS. It got me thinking and the next day I suggested to her that one way to think of poetry was as “painting with words.” She liked it and was going to see what the group at her library thought of the idea.

Your comment about “I’m the doctor’s wife” gave me a chill… a powerful capture of the type of identity-summation crisis facing not only stay-at-home moms, but any writer with a conventionally employed spouse. I was just reading some book-on-writing by a fellow who’s published hundreds of sci-fi/fantasy novels. His wife has the regular 9-to-5 job. Despite his numerous publication credits, he’s still haunted by this anxiety that everyone will judge him as the layabout, the slacker hanging around in his bathrobe at two in the afternoon while his wife is out “doing real work.” What do you do with that?

This topic reminded me of a poem I wrote recently on the topic of identity summation; I’ll post that, since I haven’t had a chance to post anything for the word fishing prompt: Why I Don’t Get Out More

“I love talking about poetry and will talk about it with anyone who will listen so for me the problem isn’t avoidance rather it is finding a captive audience.”

that’s a beautiful statement and i will think of it often and smile. i will also think about how wonderful it may be to find a captive audience. what a gift, right?

your comment also addressed the importance of finding peers with a similar level of poetry interest and knowing the difference between that peer group and the general poetry-writing public.

you express a strong desire for deep discussion — part critique, part motivation/inspiration, part process. you know me, i’m all up in everyone’s process! i love that stuff.

not everyone does. some people just want to write and they don’t care if the reader gets it. the poem did something for them when they wrote it and that’s enough for them in the world. they may not want to consider the why’s and the sources and all that. for these poets — and there’s nothing wrong with it — the “attaboys” are the important part of networking.

the RWP community — like many writer communities — is diverse. there are some who just want to chill out and write a poem and there are some who want to write and then delve into the nuts and bolts and inspirations of their work and others’ work.

to avoid frustration, it’s helpful to know the poet’s intention in posting to his/her blog and participating in communities like RWP. as you cruise around, you’ll find that peer group who shares your interests and intensity. i’m certain of it.

as we all find our niches within this and any writing community, i recommend only offering critique if it’s requested. and remember, an important part of critique is finding something you like about the piece. unless something further is requested, it may not be wanted. and we should respect it.

now, if you happen to know me (and others) like you do, you know that critique on all levels is always welcome. it’s part of my process.

but that’s only discovered on a case by case basis: captive audience under construction.

i love your take on this, that we compartmentalize lots of information about ourselves. you’re absolutely right.

sometimes, however, i do feel the urge to explain my passion for something to someone who may have little knowledge about writing. i’m a hoot at cocktail parties, right? i can’t just say, “i’m the doctor’s wife” and giggle and blush. i have to say “i’m an artist and i write poetry.” and then i find myself trying to justify it, how someone can “waste” time on such endeavors when she should be doing something more productive or more of a contribution to society.

even those people who don’t consider the arts an indulgence may still wonder where the passion comes from. (or maybe i’m projecting my own over-active curiosities about other people’s passions onto the general public. ha ha!)

Well, let me change direction here a bit. I love talking about poetry and will talk about it with anyone who will listen so for me the problem isn’t avoidance rather it is finding a captive audience.What I have learned to do is to not overburden the disinterested. Like Nate, writing is about who I am. Anyone who knows me more than a casual passing by the water cooler (and that poor soul is likely to be subjected to some rambling conversation from said poet), identifies me as writer because I am rarely seen without a book, a composition book or sitting for hours reading online publications. Even if they’ve never read a poem by me, it’s assumed I am a writing chick.

What is more alarming for me is not finding an audience among my peers who are willing to engage in in-depth, extended conversation about poetry. And I’m not simply talking about critique. I want to see more interaction between reader and poet about the motivation or inspiration for a particular work. I want us to be asking more questions (I admit here at rwp, that as a reader/poet, I don’t always comprehend. Sometimes, I need a little help.), challenging each other to reconsider if we’ve said what we meant to say, and what does it mean when a work says something relevant but was totally unintentional on our part? I want to talk about the technical aspects of writing without being overly formal. Hell, you’re asking the wrong girl about why we hide. I feel more like the student the rest of the class would like to smack. I want eat the meal and then harass the cook to share the recipe. I want to know how she recreates heaven on a plate.

I really want to talk to poets and readers who not only write poetry but spend some real time reading it, admiring it for the art/craft as well as the emotion it elicits. I want talk about the art of writing and not get lulled into sweet seduction of “attaboys.” Praise keeps me going, but guidance makes my work better.

Poetry for me, is an explanation of myself. Not of my surroundings but what’s going on in my head. As a private person, I don’t always want someone asking me a bunch of questions. Yet, this is how I describe myself.

I write poetry because the emotions that I write about demand words that flow as if already written. My poems fold up intense moments of my life into letters that slip beneath you skin and slide through the chinks in your conciousness. Or so I hope.

As for the reason I don’t talk poetry with non-writers, there’s a passage by Lin-Chi: “When you meet a master swordsman, show him your sword. When you meet a man who is not a poet, do not show him your poem.”

It’s not like poetry is the ONLY conversation topic I restrict to particular audiences. I don’t talk about my sex life to our local children’s librarian. I don’t rhapsodize about birthing my son to my bachelor buddies. I don’t talk about what I’m doing in therapy to the guy who runs the office IT department. Honestly, it would never even occur to me to try to explain my affection for poetry to non-writers. Why would I feel a need to in the first place? I don’t feel a need to explain my love for my husband or son to anyone. Those non-writers in my life who love to tappity-tap on blackberries and do tax litigation—what’s my motivation for explaining my love for poetry to them? …And, awful question: what if, heaven forefend, said tax litigator had the compulsion to explain his love of tax litigation to me? )