I think one of the most significant revelations I’ve owned up to since firing up this site once upon a time is accepting what, to most, may seem like an obvious fact.

I’m a Poet.

Writers don’t like that word. If you tell someone you’re a poet, they usually assume you scribble rhyming lines about our treacherous world and your most recent heartbreak. A bit of boo-hoo syndrome if you will…

It’s been nearly a year since I published a volume of poetry with the second volume soon to arrive. So I suppose I should own up to kind of being a Poet… amongst other things.

Another factor that has had me thinking down this route of acceptance lately is that I’m finding more and more that in recent conversations the inadvertent, “Yeah, I wrote a poem about that…” is whistling through my lips.

The reactions I receive are interesting. I think I may have frightened away some possible acquaintances. I’ve certainly received a few, “Ummm… yeah, sorry if I gave you the wrong impression?”s

I thought about trying to not be so upfront in some instances. I realised that isn’t really possible.

I smiled over that and tipped back another glass of red.

It has been another amazing weekend. Two days closer to New York City. A few more snapshots in the life of a Poet…