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PERSUASIVE ESSAY easily belongs among the most elemental tools of poetry writing. Clearly in writing cover letters that support the importance of your manuscript; but, also in reconsidering what the poem or poet has or has yet to accomplish. In some reguard the formulas given in CORRELI's essay helps a poet to pare down and focus a poem written for a particular purpose.
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JANELLE H. Rodgers
I Don't Own a Video Camera: I'm a Poet
I write poetry to freeze my daughter in time. Her growing up is inevitable. I
can't even keep her in the same clothes for one season before her toes start
creeping over the edge of her flip flops and her belly button pokes out between
her shirt and her ever-shortening shorts. And while she grows out of the
toddler clothes section and eases seamlessly into the girl's section, my buggy
is filling up with a rack of fears, a package of hopes, a few bottles of
aspirations, some worries on clearance, and enough love for me to get a second
cart. I started to reach for the price check button in a panic, and found
poetry instead.
Yes, poetry.
While my daughter slept one night in the next room, I sat in the rocking chair
I used to put her to sleep in when she was a baby, and pulled out an old
notebook. I unloaded my buggy on the page. The way her eyes squeezed shut when
she blew hard on candles or dandelions, the one dimple on the left side that is
deeper than the one on the right, the way she has all of her daddy's dark
features and my blue eyes, all wound up on the page. And while I scribbled
what she looked like at a certain time, or some behavior, I put my reaction to
it. I unloaded the fear, the worry, the hope, the aspirations and dreams.
Beep, beep, beep, check, check, check. It all went down the conveyor belt and
over the scanner of being a parent.
I stayed up several hours, loving these images, recalling them like the
pictures in the albums stacked in the living room, and others framed on the
walls. But those still photographs weren't enough to capture the movement of
her splashing in the bathtub, the pitch of her laughter or her wheezing breath
when she slept.
Poetry let me take the snapshots. I could stand behind the lens of being her
mother, focus on her and take the picture, and when I looked over them, who she
was, my feelings towards her became real, dimensional.
Armed with a pencil, I cut out words in the notebook, filled the blank space on
the page, read the poems aloud to capture the rhythm, the feel, and I could see
her come alive. I cropped and added color, honed in on one feature and shaded
another with black and white. What had been a bulky collage of words in a
notebook transformed into a collection, a refined scrapbook, a slow moving
collage starring my daughter.
Now, we are settled into the girls section, happily shopping without any
transitions. Rolls of film stay stashed next to the camera and disposable ones
are in a hand's reach in the car. Yet, I keep a scribble pad in my bag, in the
car, in a kitchen drawer, so that I'll be able to unload onto the page when
irrational fear tries to tip over a moment of blowing bubbles in milk. I'll be
able to capture the dream as she squats to examine a bug, or when she leaps at
some last chance to fly off the diving board. Next year, we go to kindergarten.
School pictures will fill up my albums, and I am sure I will fill more than a
notebook on those days. But I have found that poetry captures the instance, the
blue light specials, the images of the moment, and flipping through the pages
of the notebook is a motion picture in itself. But, I don't own a video camera.
I'm a poet.
-copyright THE AUTHOR---
LINDA CORRELI is a staff writer of Go2Essay.com - custom Essay Writing Help. She specializes in essay writing of argumentative essays, persuasive essays, narrative essays, and descriptive essays.
PoetryREpairs.com welcomes essays on any topic related to poetry..
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