Who's counting?

There has to be irony in setting a task which daily grows beyond reasonable expectations, but reasonable only if you are not a poet. I never expected anything as consuming and as exhausting as trying to write a creditable poem every day.

So why even try?

I don't know how to answer. If I didn't try somehow my self-belief would take a savage blow. If I gave it my best shot and failed it would still be crippling. In other words I have set myself up for a tumble.

Perhaps that is the answer.

On the positive side I have made some wonderful contacts since starting this madness.

I have read and will continue to read wonderful new poetry ranging from the raw and painful, to the erudite and sublime, to the sick and sinful, to the passionate and poisonous, to the peaceful and providential. It is an exciting journey! The poets are ordinary people expressing all the magnificent human emotions they possess in all the varieties and colours and languages one can imagine.

That is what keeps me going.

And hey, I've eclipsed 200 poems today.