February 17, 1980: Poetic Apprentice

Published in the Journal, Poetic Apprentice

February 17: Spent 2.5 hours with Allen today. He likes me, I think, although he thinks my poetry isn’t on target. But he never discourages me. In fact I always leave feeling I have the answer, the poetry, inside me — that I just have to learn how to get it out. We’re getting to know each other better or at least I feel really at ease with him — he’s a real sweetheart — 2.5 hours on eleven poems of mine — patient, he puts up with me. Told him Beth’s comment about my poetry — “I see what you mean” — and he got up and wrote it in his notebook. He said a couple of things to me that “put me in my place.” Said, “You seem to be a smart guy, I mean you look things up in the library. . . .” And then he trailed off. He would have finished the sentence “I can’t see why you can’t understand.” Another time he asked me “Haven’t you ever had a writing class?” But he’s so concerned and not put-downish about it that I take it as something deserved. I really have a lot to learn. This doesn’t come easy to me. Allen says don’t dwell on poems but I can’t help it — I’m not happy with what comes out originally. I wish it came easy. But I’m not going to quit — at least I have a lot of room for improvement. And it’s no use wishing I was someone else if the thing is getting in touch with who I am.

Saw the monk who walks from Boulder to Rocky Flats dressed in orange and beating a drum — chanting on a sunny day. An incongruent piece of heaven reflected in the middle of my middle class neighborhood.