Sheff

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Sheff

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Poetry is a Rorschach test

I am not a poet nor am I tying to become a poet. However I am trying my best not to embarrass myself in my poetry class. Unfortunately, as a group we are failing miserably. I thought a poem about a brick was a metaphor for child abuse. I had to explain that I was in a dark place when I came to that conclusion. I also responded with delight to a riddle poem saying aloud, “Oh it’s about a cell phone.” To which the author responded, “It wasn’t a riddle poem.”

I thought a car accident poem was about a bad marriage and an ice climbing poem was about sex. One of my classmates thought my poem about an ugly baby was about race relationships in America. (He’s from Scotland if that has anything to do with his analysis). The professor called my work surreal and compared it to a Brazilian poet who writes about cutting off his dirty hand. (He actually is a poet if that explains his assessment). I decided surreal is code for I don’t know what the hell you’re saying here and I don’t want to look stupid, so it must be brilliant.

In tonight’s stack of poetry is at least 2 poems about the Holocaust, 1 about a dog, 1 about Sarah Palin, 2 about sex, and strangely there’s one about a man I used to date. ( I am almost certain of this and it surprises me, because I didn’t think they knew each other). I hope I'm at least partially right, but I am afraid it will be another interesting evening.

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