![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
First entry for the "Blog about something you don't usually blog about" meme:
the_bitter_word asked, What is the thing you do just for fun but don't take at all seriously?
It was very difficult to come up with a subject for this post, because there are so painfully few things that I like but don't take seriously. I guess I am just an obsessive kind of person. Actually the only things I manage to take a little less seriously are those rare ones that I like despite not being good at them. One of them is poetry.
When I first started to entertain serious (weeeeell...) thoughts about writing literary texts, my genre of choice was poetry - probably because I was a teenager at the time. I entered a poetry contest at school and also submitted some texts for a teen poet project set up by a local youth movement. In both cases I got published. That was only because I had fortunately been too shy to submit any of the texts I really cared about: horrid, horrid samples of teenage love poetry.
The difference between the teenage and adult me is that as a youngster, I used to believe I had a talent for poetry, and now I don't anymore. I don't know why that is so, because I do manage to write poetic prose... It's one of life's mysteries, I suppose ;P. The only attempt at poetry that I made while in my twenties was a travesty of a sonnet - and when I say travesty, I mean a complete disaster, not a deliberate spoof. Now and then I feel the vague desire to turn a feeling or a sight into verse, but I never allow any of my miserable compositions a life on paper. They are just for private giggling.
However - especially for
the_bitter_word I wrote a very short poem while on the train. It was going to be about the sad existence of the commuter, but it turned into something about a cat.
Moulting time
Cat hair
is everywhere.
I carry a little Mien with me.
That's all, really.
;-)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
It was very difficult to come up with a subject for this post, because there are so painfully few things that I like but don't take seriously. I guess I am just an obsessive kind of person. Actually the only things I manage to take a little less seriously are those rare ones that I like despite not being good at them. One of them is poetry.
When I first started to entertain serious (weeeeell...) thoughts about writing literary texts, my genre of choice was poetry - probably because I was a teenager at the time. I entered a poetry contest at school and also submitted some texts for a teen poet project set up by a local youth movement. In both cases I got published. That was only because I had fortunately been too shy to submit any of the texts I really cared about: horrid, horrid samples of teenage love poetry.
The difference between the teenage and adult me is that as a youngster, I used to believe I had a talent for poetry, and now I don't anymore. I don't know why that is so, because I do manage to write poetic prose... It's one of life's mysteries, I suppose ;P. The only attempt at poetry that I made while in my twenties was a travesty of a sonnet - and when I say travesty, I mean a complete disaster, not a deliberate spoof. Now and then I feel the vague desire to turn a feeling or a sight into verse, but I never allow any of my miserable compositions a life on paper. They are just for private giggling.
However - especially for
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Moulting time
Cat hair
is everywhere.
I carry a little Mien with me.
That's all, really.
;-)