TAKE A STEP FORWARD EACH DAY & THE VIEW CHANGES AT EVERY TURN YOU TAKE.

The anthology that I worked on for my Creative Writing major project had to be comprised of five poems, two short stories, a play and my dad's autobiography (Part I). Creative writing was one of three electives I took from the School of Social Science and Humanities (SHSS) at the University of Papua New Guinea (UPNG). It was second semester, 2017 during my final year studies.

I presented the poems to my lecturer for corrections. She asked earlier if we would bring our first drafts to her for further guidance. All my poems seemed beautiful and it even placed me to an edified excitement. The meter sounds of poetry is one thing; all of mine sounded perfectly exceptional. After having glanced through the poems just once however; my lecturer told me I went off-track.

Off-track; how? I had a disoriented feeling. I was lost as I had so much confidence on my poems. I was confident that I would return with uplifting compliments; at least some words that would foster my effort on the remaining touches, yet it was cynical.

To myself, the poems I brought to here were the best; but to her they were not. She wanted all my poems to be replaced with better ones. She further advised that I needed to come down to my level and write like a student. 

Come down to my level like a student? What other level was my level? I did this as a student, didn't I? Does this mean I did like an expert? It was all conflicting. Honestly, I expected a clear and heartening compliment about my  poems, but what she gave wasn't expected. The funny thing though was I got her in a whole different way too; as of course I did it  beyond my typical level. I felt hyper about myself immediately. 

I thought she meant I did it impeccably better, even perhaps at the exact level of how a specialist poet would do. I was never really told explicitly of why my poems didn't have to have rooms in my anthology. But I even looked down on my fellow students to some point because I thought that maybe I did it better like a lecturer or a poet would. 

But today, I see the same poem again and its thoroughly a different feeling I have; discreditable in fact. It contains a lot of errors. Its funny seeing the diction of every stanza swaying back and forth, making it impossible to tell where exactly the style or the voice is? Every line of each stanza tries to utterly serve the meter, which however; parades a thin rhythm. The themes been over looked merely for the meter as it seems. Obviously the central idea has been compromised through thoughtless collections of main ideas that further jeopardize the line structures of each stanza. 

She never told me my mistakes that moment. That's where she (my lecturer) was wrong. But I was the big piece of crap to think that I was any smarter than my fellow students or rather be equal to/with the lecturers. Shameful! From up here, the view is thoroughly different.  

But, what's good about this? My poem indicates how I viewed poetry those days. The current view is indeed different from the view then. This only portrays that the view changes at every turn you take moving forward.

What's my hobby? READING & WRITING! @2021