The Long Poem

Ok. I might sound like I am talking out of both sides of face (or out of my ass, whatever) but I have a hard time reading long poems.  That being said – I seem to be writing them lately.

How do I define a long poem?  To me, a long poem is one that goes over into a second printed page and/or further. And I’m thinking of an standard 8 x 11 sheet of paper here, not necessarily book size.

I  know to some people that length isn’t even long, but to me it is.  I read a lot of novels,  non-fiction along with my poetry so it’s not like I can’t read long work it is just, with poetry, even as a poet, I find longer works – at times – tedious (and screw good sentence construction here!)

I won’t name specific ones that are boring, but I find the only ones that work – for me – in long form are of a narrative nature.  I read “Sharp Teeth” by Toby Barlow which was a verse novel and was a work I not only found myself breezing through but loving.

The ones that don’t seem to work for me are those too lyric in nature, and they seem to be ones with lots of allusions and references to other poets or art etc..Perhaps they are too intellectual.  Which, in some ways, seems kind of a funny thing for me to say given that I used to consider myself a bit of an academic and/or intellectual.  I was an honor student and certified nerd, but yet – I want to be interested – I don’t need to just seem how clever you are.

So, I find that my new poems are definitely longer that what I am used to writing. And, they are draining.  I have ideas burbling around in my head, but yet I’m almost scared of the page and how long it will take me to get those thoughts down, even jsut in the initial draft. And for me, that means the poems have true length potential because I usually expand the poems when I start typing them up.

Even right now, I have the desire to write something today.  I’m not sure yet what it will be or what world I will be stepping into, but it is one that takes more and more of my time. I shall go try and walk there