I also resolve to not compete with the same poems twice. ESPECIALLY not consecutively. I have two new pieces - and they may not be too terribly awesome, but I have worked hard on them. And I can't tell my students that hard work is a good system of measurement without applying it to myself. But with poetry, it's literally hard work, blood (paper cuts), and tears (self explanatory). Oh, and an absence of stage fright... work in progress. I also resolve to ignore the numbers or else I'll revert to childhood and reject future poetic endeavors because I didn't do "good enough." That in itself is no good, obviously.
Michael and I decided not to go to Cool Shoes tonight, (first time I've ever missed), in light of rest, refraining from spending money, and - for me, at least - time to work on poems. I love writing when I feel as though I can't NOT write. But if I could be in Atlanta right now with Joanie & Julia, I would - so come on Air Tran, fly to Little Rock! Digression.
In light of my fears of being sub-par and worthy of ridicule (although I know, by default as a human, I am), I shall repeat this to myself all day tomorrow:
"the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best."
- Henry Van Dyke