Every Bad Work I’ve Written
If I’m honest,
my mind’s willed out more than a few
bad narratives, poems, ideas,
my hands’ve written down more than a few
bad descriptions, sentences, turns of phrase.
If I’m honest,
I’ve stared at more than a few
of those bad works and pieces
with the wish to forget, erase them,
with solemn exasperation, regret.
If I’m honest,
more than a few
of the bad have helped me
through confusion, exhaustion, sorrow,
comprehend what could work better.
If I’m honest,
how could I lament
any word when every word
has freed me to pen the next?
8 thoughts on "Every Bad Work I’ve Written"
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Some poems exist only for us, the poet. They are our practice, the honing of our craft. I adore this celebration of what didn’t work because of what it gives to how we do our best.
Thank you so much! And that’s my thought exactly: some poems exist only for us (and even with all of their flaws, that’s okay).
As Philip says, this is a celebration poem.
Indeed it is. Thank you for reading.
It’s inside the head of all writers!
Haha, yes, unfortunately I think it is. And thank you for reading!
That ending! Whew.
Glad you liked it!