by Deb Scott
Back in August, not long after the debut of the new Read Write Poem and its kicking community forum, we published the very first installment in the 100% Honest Day (Poetry Edition) column. (That’s the one where we invited you to post 100% honest comments.)
You guys loved it. We loved it. There were 192 comments over the course of a week. And remarkably, there were no anonymous comments. Every comment came with a named author; every comment was written by one of you, our community members!
That’s fascinating because we invited you to post anonymously, if need be. And while being 100% honest (even about poetry, and our 100% Honest Day is only about poetry) doesn’t have to be confessional, there is something about the disclosure process that elicits a “coming-clean” response. Sometimes people feel safer confessing under the protection of anonymity. Just do a Google search using the term “confession blog,” and you’ll get close to 5.5 million hits. 5.5 million!
We’d like to think Read Write Poem members are able to be honest because the site is welcoming and unpretentious. (Those are big parts of our mission.) Perhaps none of us has made any flagrant sins regarding poetry that need to be confessed. (There are no flagrant sins of poetry, unless one works in a specific form. Even then, rules are broken with intent and without remorse all the time.)
Perhaps our independence as poets to discover and dissect the world using words gives us the chutzpah to be honest poets, because that’s the only real goal, or hope, we have.
Here are the ground rules for 100% Honest Day (Poetry Edition), in a nuthsell:
All you have to do to get honest is leave a comment here in the comments section. Tell a little. Tell a lot. Confess once. Confess repeatedly. You can even leave anonymous comments if you feel so inclined. Think of this as your safe place to get honest about the things you never feel you can say regarding poetry and your relationship with it. (Just make sure you still follow the site’s code of conduct.)
If you missed the 100% Honest Day kick-off post, be sure to read it. Dana and Nathan gave some great backstory about confession (from a Western perspective — if you know of other historical perspectives, do share!) and some history about where this 100% Honest Day column came from.
The comments are open! Be honest! 
Deb Scott is community and news director for Read Write Poem. In her other life she plays with words, her pets, bugs and her husband, in a random but rotating order. She blogs at Stoney Moss.
Yikes! But I don’t want to be first to post! Maybe if I write slowly here, someone will beat me to it. Does that count for one? OK. OK.
I wish I was William Stafford! (I know, I know, he’s not here anymore. And I can’t be someone else. But honestly – that’s the way it feels inside.) That should be the first line of a poem someday, but I’m not ready yet. His poetry is the poetry I 100% admire.
Often, so often, there’s a period of time, between finishing a poem and posting it (or until some comment is made) where I am in complete doubt about the worthiness of the poem at all. No matter whether I feel more or less in “like” with the poem, or that it was more or less honest. Sometimes that feeling amuses me, but still it comes!
It is not craft, but honesty, that is the hardest thing for me about writing poems. Cleverness is easier than honesty! But less who I want to be.
And I’m not even really so clever! Else maybe I’d have made this a poem right here. I didn’t.
Don’t care for poems so much that rhyme. I’ll be polite, really I will. Doing some of the prompts right here, the more specific they are, the more I resist! Don’t like be told what to do! (I know I don’t have to, but you know…) That surprised me some. (Not saying I won’t play or that there’s no value to be found – but I do resist!) Stubborn?
I’d rather write than do about anything else.
BIG poets intimidate me. Some of you guys right here! Big just means I like your poems more than mine. I look and wonder, how’d they see like that? Ha! (And yea, I’m totally free of judgments. Not!)
I learned to write like I learned to paint. Abstract a lot. (I can’t paint a realistic still life or life figure to save my life!) Understanding is not my first goal, feelings are.
There. Have I stalled enough? Has someone else become first?
I love RWP and all who make it be as it is!
Damn! First! Now here’s that deep deep sense of doubt!
Does consistency count?
I confess that I struggle with this conflict: I do think that younger readers must be allowed to explore a variety of “safe” and “dangerous” poems, and “good” and “bad” poems, in order to learn how to discriminate, judge, test poetry against life, and choose their own beloved poets. Despite that intellectual conviction, I still cringe whenever I think of my teenage daughter reading about Sylvia Plath.
I confess to insisting that there is a huge difference between a poet’s biography and a poet’s poetry and that quality – or lack there of – in one realm has no direct bearing on the other.
I am a female poet, and I confess that I am tired of male poets feigning interest in my poetry when all they really want to do is have sex with me.
I also confess that when the latter does not happen (it never does) and all support for my writing suddenly dissipates (it always does), I wonder how corrupt the world of poetry really is and how deep that corruption goes.
I wonder what it takes to make it as a female poet. And I am deeply disheartened that in 2009 women poets are still being treated this way by some male poets — male poets who happen to have a lot of power and sway locally, regionally and nationally.
I confess that after several experiences like the one described above, it is hard for me to trust male poets now. I always wonder if there is another agenda, and it is difficult for me to believe there is really a genuine interest in my work. I prefer working with female poets, publishers and editors and sidestepping the entire mess altogether.
Finally, I confess that it is absolutely crushing to believe a poet is sincerely interested in my work only to come to learn that is not the case.
rallentanda replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 6:01 pm
I agree that discrimination exists against female writers.I have assumed a male identity as a writer and there is a marked difference in response to me as male rather than female.
Dana Guthrie Martin replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 10:54 pm
Rallentanda, that’s interesting. Is your male identity one you can share, or is “his” name a secret?
rallentanda replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 11:19 pm
Well,I’m not Derrick and I’m not Wayne.
How’s that?
Dana Guthrie Martin replied:
November 10th, 2009 at 8:20 pm
Oh, so you have another identity here. Very interesting.
I genuinely feel that I know next to nothing about poetry. I read poetry frequently, but much of the time I feel like I just don’t get it. I rarely catch the deeper symbolism or meaning in poems without some guide “giving me the answer.”
I have had two poems published in literary magazines, and I have no idea why they were selected above the others. When I choose which poems I want to submit to be published, I’m never sure that I’ve chosen the right ones. I have no idea if I’ve improved, as a poet, over the past year.
I like rhyming poems, but rarely write them because I think they’re unfashionable.
I’m a lazy poet. I write very often, but I can rarely seem to make myself focus and put in the extra work that makes a mediocre poem good.
I want to write novels; I write poetry instead because it seems more manageable and possible.
Kristen McHenry replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 9:06 pm
“I like rhyming poems, but rarely write them because I think they’re unfashionable.”
*sigh* Me, too. I hate that rhyming poems are treated like nuclear waste by most publications now. I remember the submission guidelines to one magazine I was considering actually stated, “Rhyme is acceptable only if handled with maturity.” That cracked me up. I mean, seriously. Can anyone explain to me what that actually means? Is writing a rhyming poem like drinking imported, aged, 80-proof whiskey, only to be trusted to a select, experienced few who can “handle it”? For the love of God, it’s just a rhyme, people! Cat. Mat. There! Ohhh. Terrifying stuff, that. It’s a good thing I know what I’m doing!
rallentanda replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 9:36 pm
I love your comments.I could read books of them.
Dana Guthrie Martin replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 10:56 pm
Your comment reminds me that I hate it when journals and magazine have snarky submission guidelines. Why do some editors think it’s A-OK to berate those submitting work? It’s nonsense. If reading your guidelines makes me feel bad, I am far less likely to submit work to your publication.
Dave Bonta replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 1:57 pm
Hear, hear!
I am scared to death of open-mic nights, I think, even though I would love to get my poetry out there a bit more. People have said encouraging things on my blog and on communities that have kept me writing in the first place, but on the spot, with an audience… I just don’t know. It’s terrifying.
I still hate tetrameter. Like, a lot.
Sometimes I feel like a total snob when I read someone’s rhyming couplets and ellipses and goofy imagery and think, “Ugh, what a horrible poet.” But we all started at some point, and one person’s trash is another’s treasure. How can one be critical while being supportive? Is it better to say nothing at all?
I wish I had more time to get more involved with Read Write Poem, since it’s been an incredibly helpful outlet for me, and I’m one of those people that likes to give back and everything. Not really sure what I can do about that though.
And one more confession: it was me. I ate all of the moon cakes. I’m sorry, they were just so delicious.
It’s heartening to read all these confessions. Thank you.
I confess that I am a dilettante(1). I flirt with poetry but don’t have it in me to go all the way.
(1) A dabbler in an art or a field of knowledge.
I feel that I have no true “voice” as a poet and tell myself that I dabble in so many different styles because I am still learning, but in reality, writing in one style all the time is very boring to me.
I also feel I am not very “deep” in my poetry, and do it more for just entertainment value and to be REALLY honest, I cannot even understand most of the “deep” and modern stuff that I read. I admire so many of the poets here at RWP as they seem so confident and true to themselves, and when they write something nice about what I have written I go between feeling that “WOW, they think I have value!” to “They are just humoring the village idiot”!
Also, when I post a piece on my blog that I really am proud of and no one remarks on it, it just feeds those little demons that say, “give up, you are a fool!”
This blog doesn’t permit anonymous commenting; a name and an email is required to leave a comment. Perhaps you’d consider suspending that rule for a few days, so people could log out and leave anonymous comments if they wish?
Dana Guthrie Martin replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 1:17 pm
You actually can, Dave. Just enter the name “anonymous” and a made-up URL. We specifically want members to be able to comment anonymously on this column.
Dave Bonta replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 1:59 pm
A made-up email, you mean?
Dana Guthrie Martin replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 5:49 pm
That *is* what I mean!
I wish I could write something and say “hey, I like that.” Instead, I totally need the opinion of someone else before I know what to think of my own work.
oh Nathan, I am the opposite! When I first write something I am madly in love with it…THEN after waiting for comments and after re-reading it a few times and reading all the other prompt pieces (if it was a prompt piece I was so crazy about)I lose all confidence in the piece and think it’s just drivel!
I rarely pracice what I preach. On anything. I am the biggest hypocrite I know. But as for poetry… hmm. It never bothers me to confess when I don’t get something, which is often. I’m comfortable with less than full understanding — so comfortable, I suspect it’s one of the reasons I enjoy reading poets who are smarter than I am.
If I said, “I confess to loving poetry,” you’d probably think I was pretty lame. But as with any true love affair, I am rarely bothered by other people’s opinions. It’s just me and you, poetry. Marry me.
Dana Guthrie Martin replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 8:12 pm
“It’s just me and you, poetry. Marry me.”
Aaw. That’s so sweet, Dave. Poetry says “Yes!”
Dave Bonta replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 2:00 pm
She did? Swell! Now to find a Justice of the Peace. I’m guessing I’d be well-advised not to look in Louisiana.
barbara_y replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 5:24 pm
Tennessee still accepts the common law, but it requires more time than quickie chapel jobs.
More of an observable fact than a confession: I do not think I will write a single poem during NaNoWriMo. (even though my poetry would probably be better than the prose I’m cranking out)
I have a really hard time finding poems to write without a prompt (hence loving this website). After the adolescent emo!poetry phase, I didn’t write any poetry until my college writing classes. And in the absence of such classes I find it very difficult to narrow the world enough to find something I can condense/expand into a poem.
I confess that I’m ambivalent about attention. I crave notice, but positive comments leave me thinking “I can quit now” and negative (or worse, none) make me think: why bother?
Lately, I have been crippled by the Thunderdome battle that rages in my head as to what poetry is. And the longer I wait to write, the harder it is to pick up a pencil.
One one hand, people tell you to be honest in your writing, to embrace what comes to you, and not be judgmental about the words that manage to make their way onto the page. On the other hand, if those words happen to be about stars, clouds, sex, loss, the soul, whiskey, or anything self-referential, a large chunk of the poetry community seems to think it cliche.
Also, I struggle with this desire that I can only compare to wanting to be Tony Hawk the first time I step onto a skateboard. I sit down to write and think, “Gosh, I don’t feel brilliant today. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.” Or worse, “I don’t feel clever anymore. Maybe I need 14 cocktails to loosen up.”
Lastly, I want to confess that I really like words like and, to, for, of, by, in, an, etc. Does it make me a less clever poet that I want to use them in my poetry to create a more natural flow of words?
rallentanda replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 5:35 pm
No!
ovpaul replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 2:35 pm
“I want to confess that I really like words like and, to, for, of, by, in, an, etc.”
Man, I fight with myself about these kinds of words all the time. Either I don’t filter them out, or I try to avoid them altogether; I have yet to find a happy medium, and I feel like that failure makes ME a less clever poet. Or at least a less focused & hardworking one.
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Lately, poetry has been distracting me. I drive aimlessly past destinations, hide scraps of paper in my pockets and sometimes get lost in the grocery store because I’m looking under the rocks in my head searching for the perfect word to describe something I’ve just seen.
I’m thinking I should just buy a camera.
ren powell replied:
November 4th, 2009 at 11:52 pm
…and then join the videopoetry group!
I secretly worry that I’m too shallow and maybe even a little too A.D.D to be a good poet, even though I don’t actually have an A.D.D. diagnosis. But mostly I worry about not having “deep enough” thoughts. Does anyone remember that Edie Brickell song from way back, where one of the lyrics is, “Choke me in the shallow water/ Before I get too deep”? Sometimes that’s how I feel. I sit down to really plunge into writing a poem in a very deep way, and then, after about an hour, it gets to a point where I truly can’t stand myself anymore, and I just think, “Eff this shit. I’m gonna play video games instead.” And then I feel like one those hapless, sorry, masses of humanity that deeper poets are always writing their exalted poems about. Sometimes this worries me. (But not enough so that I pass up the opportunity to mow me down a few evil Orcs with the Druid’s Blade of Righteousness).
Dave Bonta replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 2:05 pm
I long ago came to terms with my own lack of intellectual rigor. But what’s funny is that when I am at my most empty-minded, something truly profound can happen in the poem. Not often, but sometimes. The important thing is to cultivate quality of attention, I think. The poems are out there. You just have to know how to lure them in.
Dana Guthrie Martin replied:
November 10th, 2009 at 8:22 pm
You can also take a lot of codeine, and then the poems come running after you. This I have learned since I started taking cough medicine with codeine in it. The problem is, I am too sick and tired (literally) to write the poems down.
I confess that I am sometimes bewildered by poets who have what I guess I would call “print snobbery” – the idea that any type of print publication is more prestigious/meaningful/important than work that is published by reputable, beautiful sites online. It smacks of junior high clique-ishness or, at the very least, petty judgement.
I still cannot figure out the point of “language” poems or abstract poems – and I’m trying. Really I am.
I confess also that confessional poetry – pouring out your miseries for the sake of pouring out your miseries without much regard for the crafting of the piece as a poem – somewhat bothers me. It adds to the perception by people who don’t read poetry that all poems are “true” and that all poets are somehow damaged.
I confess that I would much rather roll a line around in my head for hours than go to a party.
IMO the work of a number of unpublished poets on this site is far superior to the ponderous stodge and excruciating verse that
inhabit revered anthologies,prescribed reading texts for academic courses.
I confess to shamelessness in my love of print publications- holding paper in my hands.
I confess to a painful ambivalence when it comes to digital work and a sense of real accomplishment and sometimes freak out to think that all the work I put into an animated poem can’t be preserved, touched, handed over in the same, familiar way that even a single printed poem can. I feel there is sometimes a rift between the sensual, tactile, living impulses that make me write a poem and the electrical On OFF duality that is the kind of molecular level of an alternate (illusory) word. I like the grain of paper and the ink.
I confess I have old-fashioned – and what many interpret as cliquish – ideas of what is good poetry. I confess to being shameless in regard to my elitist attitudes.
DJ Vorreyer replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 6:42 pm
Ren – Hope you didn’t take my confession personally – I also love print mags, but I was talking about a number of poets I know who turn up their noses at the idea that any work published online is inherently less significant than that which is published in Poetry or Rattle or Iowa Review. Everyone has their own ideas about what good poetry is – me included – I just don’t necessarily think that something is BAD or GOOD based on whether it lives in the digital universe or is preserved in print.
I have a real clarity about what I personally admire and value in poetry. I just don’t know how that applies to me!
I confess to knowing what others around me secretly think of me writing poems – mere self-indulgence. If she’s any good, she’ll be published. She hasn’t mastered form. Her poems are too prosaic. No rhythm, no meter. Whatever.
I confess to writing poems despite criticism. I confess to needing to know if a poem hits the mark. I confess to wanting to connect with a reader. Any reader. So it’s not just me and my poems. Worthless indulgence.
I love RWP
and I love prompts…
I love to write poetry that rhymes, but like a few others who mentioned, I wonder if that means I will not be seriously taken.
I read poems (a lot of them blogs) but lot of times I dont get it until multiple readings.
I always wonder if my poems will be considered childish by others.
I am scared to write about dark topics…
Not sure if this counts as a “confession,” but at an open mic last night, the fire alarm went off and we could smell smoke and all I could think of (besides how foolish I would look jumping out the window, and “I’ll follow Carolee because she’s taller and she can see the exit) was “I’ve got to save my poems!”
ren powell replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 10:20 am
I confess this was the first good laugh I had today – thanks
Dave Bonta replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 2:11 pm
That was quick thinking. Fires fed on poetry can burn hundreds of degrees hotter, turning into a firestorm, melting steel.
I confess to only sharing the poems I think are mediocre with people and keeping my best work private. I feel like the writing most important to me can only be shared if the whole world is paying attention. it’s mostly a problem of the ego.
I confess that my best work is also dense, elaborate, hostile, and overwrought and probably should only be read by people looking to be screamed at by unicorns and mermaids.
Nathan replied:
November 5th, 2009 at 3:53 pm
“Dense, elaborate, hostile, and overwrought” — that’s my kind of poetry!
I confess to posting only those poems that are at least half-way decent. None of my first drafts are decent (Anne Lamott refererred to her s—-y first drafts) So if a work a poem thru several incarnations & it is still s—–y,it gets tossed into to the “maybe someday pile”, If I don’t post on a challenge, ect., I tried, but it just wasn’t fit for human eyes to read.