The words to the writer

It's November again, I am writing a poem a day. Or rather, I am purposefully typing words every day. So far, I have some promising beginnings. It's not elation, but I feel satisfaction that I am trying a thing that is hard for me. I regret that it's hard for me. I am dismayed when I forget the word for internal rhymes. Assonance.

I'm re-reading Richard Hugo's, "The Triggering Town," because I remember it being a book that warped my mind where poetry was concerned.

He writes in chapter 2:

"In the news article the relation of the words to the subject (triggering subject since there is no other unless you can provide it) is a strong one. The relation of the words to the writer is so weak that for our purposes it isn't worth consideration.

Since the majority of your reading has been newspapers, you are used to seeing language function this way. When you write a poem, these relations must reverse themselves. That is, the relation of the words to the subject must weaken and the relation of the words to the writer (you) must take on strength.

This is probably the hardest thing about writing poems."

I have essentially lived inside news articles for so many years. It explains a lot that this would be my problem. Unearthing 'I' is a bewildering business. 'I' feels forbidden to put to print. I have no trouble finding myself in ordinary life. But writing it down is another swamp entirely.