Sunday, April 11, 2010
Trudging through Duotrope
I need to submit some more poetry.
I like to try to keep four or five poems out in the world being considered. I only have a few submissions being considered right now. Of those, some have been pending responses for more than six months, which means I will probably never hear from the editors.
It is difficult to keep faith in my own writing ability. I am looking through Duotrope's listings, trying to find a magazine that seems to accept the type of work that I write. But...it seems like that poetry that I see being accepted by the magazines is edgy, or politically or sexually charged...and mine is just not.
I like to write about happy things, or simple things. It seems like some poets write because they have a chip on their shoulders, or some old anger that they are trying to get across. I just want to express my emotions, and I am afraid that they are boring or even trite.
I don't have issues with my father or mother or authority figures. I'm not full of rage at the world of men, and I'm not really crazy about liberalism or communism.
Maybe that's why so many amazing writers were such tortured souls...maybe happiness and contentment don't make a good writer.
Or maybe I just need to stop whining and keep writing.
So here is a nice, non-edgy, happy poem about my life.
Rippling clothes cling to the lines,
Blue sky sits serenely behind the hills.
Purple spring flowers coat the green hillsides.
I stoop to grasp a handful of laundry,
And I breathe in the crisp, clear wind.
My back aches when I bend,
And I relish the feeling.
The lanky dog and the long cat rub against me,
And I realize that there is nothing else
That I would rather be doing at that moment
Than hanging the clothes on the line.