Writing. To Create.
Kalynn Hawkins' Writing Capstone Portfolio
What was Poetry then ? What is Poetry now ?
When I first began writing poetry, my rhyming scheme was all that mattered. The romanticized images of love, tainted emotions, and fistfuls of tears filled the content of my poetry. I wanted everything to make as much sense as possible. I thought that if most of my words rhymed then this would, to my reader, make sense. I thought that rhyming would help people understand me. I thought that people would understand the words I used through rhyme, not just with what I was saying, but how I was feeling. This was extremly important to me, and it was also very taxing because I was making sure I rhymed more than I symbolized. I wanted the reader to feel like they were singing to an invisible beat, open to a variety of songs and sounds. That was why I wrote poetry back then, to rhyme.
My poetic style of writing has evolved in the past from being poetry that speaks about things into poetry that speaks about people and things. I barely rhyme now, who cares about that stuff? Now when I write poetry, I focus more on the words and the meaning behind what it is that I’m not saying. The trick here is not to only be able to explain myself poetically for an interested audience through rhyming, but to be able to explain myself in a poetically targeted way to a non-poetic audience and have the same effect. My development in this sense has taught me that in order to be perform this task, I must understand both roles that the reader will play, the role of understanding what the writer has to say, and the role of understanding what the writer is not saying.
MIA in the streets with grease stained debrees, looks of disgust from those never woken up to smell incensed leaves. Roots come from all over, histories been made again, family trees on top of trees of the dirt of what has been. Those nostrils of non-natives are held extremely high from homeless palms that reach out and feel a snarly reply.
So, actions speak louder than words. I'm not just saying "act out" fire when you see something burning or try to ring a bell when you hear the sound of a phone...BUT show me how you miss me...or better yet, SHOW me the person you'd ought to be
Those walls were like a sanction of defensive purposes complied onto blanche white or canary or pasty paint; those walls were mixed with a cascade of cream hardened with the pureness of many words spewed at night. Those walls with the words of words from the walls were all condensed into the standpoint of the sub-divided interior space of their feelings.
Escaping from the true component of oneself is the saddest loveless expression expressed from the initiation. She masks the feelings of completeness with the presence of others, intrigues the wholeness of satisfaction with the substances of the unspoken, and disconnects the connecting tithes once sensational healings are triggered upon.
I saw so much in you & it's sad I see what you could have been or what you are to become but you're so busy saying crazy things like, "I miss you" when you're the reason I'm missing in the first place...
I can't lie, I really do miss you, but I will not let that produce fantasies of happiness together & fairy tales with no pixie dust.
I remember the way it spoke for you. The way your feelings shouted to the rooftops of your being in hopes of capturing something like me. The way your breathes kept up with a pace of forgiving triumph yet still holding onto the mis-forgivings of her, or him. The way your walk approached that confidence of the HIM in you. The him that captured me.
SHE didn’t wipe them this time. SHE didn’t cover her tracks of unbearable pain, guilt, frustration, and even fear this time. SHE didn’t convince herself that everything was a mutter spillover, no, not this time. SHE didn’t wipe the tears. Those tears. Her tears. Why would SHE? Why should SHE mask her symptoms of cover-up gone badly? How should SHE?