The poem in question: A Day In The Life Of
I wrote this poem while sitting in a Book of Mormon class at BYU. I was sitting on the left side of the classroom, near the back, staring out the window at the falling snow. I have the original handwritten copy, in blue ink, and it surprises me how little change there is from that copy to the final version.
Plotwise, the poem treads familiar ground: trying to cast off inner demons, referencing outside help, and putting my thoughts into poetry because that’s the only way I felt I could truly express myself. Really, many more of my poems than I realized do this.
The style is cobbled together from other poems I’d written, notably Cried Out (the second stanza), disillusion (the fourth and fifth), and various couplet-oriented rhyming ones (the third). I think this was my first attempt at mixing styles, and I think it came off pretty well. It is like a combination of different parts of me, cobbled together to make a whole.
I’m don’t recall how I felt about them 16 years ago, but today, I really like the lines
non-realization of the lack of the quintessential
goes forgotten and unlooked for in the bustle of normalcy
It is indeed a “clever ploy” to get us to lose ourselves so much in everyday life that we don’t look for something more, or indeed realize that there is something more. There’s hope at the end, though: the last stanza is a reference to the final Calvin and Hobbies strip, which always brings a tear to my eye whenever I read it.
Interestingly, the web version of this poem seems to be missing a line. It’s not in the original handwritten copy either, but it is in my other copies. I assume it was some sort of oversight, but I’m not sure if I’ll correct it. After “a seed sown in the hidden cracks” it should read
I assume I added the line to more closely match the style of disillusion.
There are some scribbled out words and phrases in the original copy, and unfortunately I can’t make out what all of them said. It looks like I removed the word “further” from a line and changed “speed” to “incur.” Other scribbles are indecipherable and lost to time. The last stanza originally read
The snow still blankets the ground around me
Leaving a new memory, yet to be discovered.
I prefer how it turned out. Overall I really like this one.
Update 6/27/2016: Here is an image of the original handwritten text: