‘Correct Me If I’m Wrong’ marks the final poem in my series of uploads today, and so too marks a first on my site. Usually when I write a poem so deeply entrenched in emotion, or one that comes from a place of raw feeling, I often am ready to share it immediately, as a time capsule almost. In this sense, the poem serves almost as a polaroid of the way I felt at any given time. With ‘Correct Me If I’m Wrong’ however, I wrote the poem while angry, while argumentative, and rather than sharing it, I decided to allow it to fester, left on the notes section of my phone with no real intent on ever sharing.
But why is it now on my site? Well, much like a wine or a cheese, the flavour of this poem has changed with the passing of time. Sure, it has only been a few months since it’s writing, but in that time, its message has evolved. Re-reading it now, I doctored it to reflect this new feeling. It’s not simply an angry shout, or a war-cry in a battle, but instead it now serves as a reflection of passion. I can see how my anger was brought about, and now the poem stands as a display of measured heads, rather than flaring tempers. It’s aging allowed it not to serve as a snapshot of rage, as it would have been if I had uploaded it immediately, but rather a cooled rebuttal, now targeted at myself rather than the initial intended audience.
What I have taken away from this poem, is that allowing my feelings around the poem itself to mature, and my own response to the source of the poem’s creation to alter too, in turn ultimately changes the entire meaning of the poem. Among discussion of whether meaning is derived only from text, and not from contextual factors, as my degree is so far prompting me to ask, this poem serves to prove to me that the external forces of a piece of writing can very much hold bearing over the text’s message, and not all is as it would seem.