I have a confession to make.
I never thought that I’d like writing poetry.
In fact, it’s even worse than that. I hated poetry. I never could have imagined myself writing anything that wasn’t a novel or a story.
It wasn’t because I didn’t understand poetry. I knew what it was all about. I’d even read a little bit, but I passed it off as something that I would never want to do. That wasn’t a way for me to express myself. Maybe it worked for that other guy, but I didn’t feel like I was that other guy.
It’s true that I’m a stubborn person. I’d be lying if I denied that.
I grew up on Science Fiction and comic book superheroes. Naturally, these things had a major influence on my writing. They still do. That’s probably why most of what I write is Science Fiction.
Can you imagine a young man like myself trying to dabble in poetry for the first time? It just didn’t happen for me. There was no Science Fiction in poetry. It was all about the emotions.
I don’t do emotions.
I mean, I did try poetry once when I was quite young, but I only wrote one poem and it was pretty bad. For years and years of my adolescence after that, I never even gave poetry a thought. I was convinced that it was not for me.
I could never have been more wrong. Here we are, not long after I first gave poetry a try, and I’ve already got an entire book of poems – and this is the just the tip of the iceberg.
You might be wondering what caused this sudden change of heart. Well, I wish I could say that I had some profound enlightenment of sorts, or that I was on the receiving end of some life-altering revelation.
The truth is, though, that it’s much more simpler than that, and I can’t take any of the credit. It’s owed to someone else.
I’m very close with my parents, and they read much of what I write. Between the two of them, I think they’ve read it all. Without a doubt in my mind, they are my biggest supporters, my greatest encouragers, my toughest critics and my biggest inspiration.
This is where I’d like to say that my parents inspired me to write poetry, but it involved a little bit more ‘pushing out the door’, so to speak.
One day, I was talking with my mother about writing, something that happens quite often. We had a conversation that I think I’ll remember for the rest of my life. She suggested to me that I should try writing poetry. My initial reaction was very negative. I had the same opinion that I’ve had my whole life.
Then she told me that I should expand my horizons a little bit, and try something different. Of course I countered with an argument. Why should I try it? What can it do for me? And, most importantly, if I’m happy writing novels, why do I even need to bother trying something else?
She disregarded everything that I had said, and simply stated something that really changed the way I think about poetry. In her words, she said to me, “You’ll never know if you like it if you don’t try. I think you will like it, and I even think you’ll be good at it. You have the brain for poetry.”
I decided to take my mom’s words on faith and give it a shot.
Needless to say, she was right about me enjoying it.
So, here you have it, the first poem that I ever wrote (and the namesake to this blog and my first poetry collection):
A Poem by William Louison
Twenty thousand pages
And I don’t know what they’re trying to say
Twenty thousand years of these
Just to remind me that I’ve changed
Twenty generations back
Only to show me the world’s not the same
Twenty thousand years lost
And there is no way to find it again
Twenty thousand pages
Still don’t know what they’re trying to say
Thanks for reading!