A Poet's Journey

I was introduced, through the limerick,

To writing poetry, I knew every trick

But my teachers found

I would rather go in the ground

Than write another limerick

Then they introduced

The beauty of the haiku

And I was in love

My notebook was filled

With terrible three liners

And I loved each one

And then my mother took me to see

A slam poet

And I watched

I watched and listened with

awe

It was then I learned that poetry was not about words

Or syllables

Or rhymes

Poetry was movement on paper

A silent dance of words

And suddenly I did not just enjoy

Writing poems

I enjoyed

Reading them

Feeling each poem

Dance

inside my heart

And then my English teacher taught me how

To write as Shakespeare did, telling stories

In fourteen lines, not a line more would she allow.

So I wrote new tales of love or deities.

I tried to follow every single rule

But I will admit, I bent a few.

I felt that the rules were too cruel

Immensely more complex than my haikus.

However, my teacher’s immense passion

For the Shakespeare's sonnets, meant that I

Fell in love with them, after a fashion.

My love for poetry would only amplify.

My teacher taught me how to tell a tale.

In exactly fourteen lines without fail.

And with these lessons,

I write poems.

Some are bad.

Actually most are bad.

But I keep writing.