Create a Poem

Throughout my four years of high school, I filled page after page with poetry. I was the editor of our literary magazine, Kaleidoscope, and when I left for college, I had every intention of becoming an English teacher. Most of my writing came from a place of distress. My parents were unhappily married and fought constantly, my sister was, well, less than kind, and there was plenty in my life to be upset about. I shared my poems with very few people—one of them being my aunt, who was always encouraging. She understood that I needed an outlet for the emotions I was grappling with.

Our library offered an amazingly affordable service to bind printed pages—either typed on an actual typewriter or printed on a dot matrix printer—into beautiful hardcover books with gold-embossed text. It could not have cost more than $5, because, let’s face it, I didn’t have a penny to my name. I ended up with six or seven volumes of my high school poetry.

Later that fall I left for my first term at Knox College. I was excited to take my writing to the next level, but that came to a crashing halt with my first creative writing course when my professor declared that my assignment was filled with sexual overtones. As the author, I was certain that was a misunderstanding, but he was the professor—and a published author, no less. What did I know? I finished the course, but it marked the end of my creative writing for a long time.

Fast forward to a few years ago, when my cousin gifted me a book called Create a Poem for Christmas. The concept intrigued me: the book offers a topic and provides a list of 6-8 words to include in your poem. I told my friend, a published poet, about the book and announced that I was ready to rekindle my passion for poetry. I even dug out my old “volumes” from high school, dusted them off, and proudly displayed them in The Oodlearium. But my enthusiasm was short-lived. I never cracked open those old books, and for a long time, I didn’t write a single poem.

Then, a few weeks ago, we booked a trip to visit close friends on Cape Cod. I’ve always loved the Cape and its proximity to the ocean. My relationship with the sea is complex—its vastness is both calming and terrifying. As a thank-you for hosting us, I wanted to create something special, so I decided to paint something inspired by the ocean. Once the painting was finished, I realized I still wanted to do more. I wanted to write a poem about what the ocean meant to me. And that’s when I thought, Wait, what?!

It was time to break out the Create a Poem book again. I flipped through its pages, jotting down topics that might work for the project. After some thought, I settled on the theme of “stillness.” The words provided in the book felt like they could complement the idea I was trying to convey. I scribbled down some thoughts, but when I reread them, I couldn’t help but laugh at how awful the result was. I picked a few phrases I liked and kept working, trying to transform the jumble in my head into something meaningful on paper.

Soon, I realized I needed help. I reached out to my good friend Jen May, who is a talented poet herself. Jen generously shared some tools and tricks for approaching poetry, giving me the direction I so desperately needed. Writing this poem turned out to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But after hours of refining and reworking my ideas, I finally had something I could call a poem.

Jen is one of the kindest, most supportive people I know. I knew I could send her my draft, and she would give me honest, thoughtful feedback. Even so, I felt incredibly vulnerable. But true to form, Jen offered great advice, and with her input, the poem finally came together.

And here it is…

To the Sea
I ache for stillness
to silence the murmur 
in my mind.
My heart always draws me here.
I wander to the water’s edge
letting the granules of wet sand
envelope my bare feet.
I inhale deeply.
Again and again.
I am mesmerized 
by the vastness before me—
Simultaneously churning its power
while exuding the calm I long for.
With eyes closed,
I breathe in the salty air.
Again and again.
I take the power of the sea
deep into my heart.
With each exhale, 
the chaos in my mind
is carried out to sea.
Calm- at last.
Again.

by

Jen Keller

Here it is 2025 now and I have committed to a poem exchange with my long time friend Jules. The idea is that we’ll exchange a poem once a week, but we are still working out the details. After a year of writing haikus as the captions for my 52 Frames submissions in 2024, I am looking forward to this new challenge.