Essential Question: How can I express the last four years of my life through poetry?

I know the mechanics of the poem. When I am in the thick of the process, I know the techniques that I am considering, and when I am considering them. I consider what lines are enjambed, which words rhyme with others, how far apart those words should be. I am thinking of how long each stanza should be; whether or not each stanza should be a uniform length; whether sentences should carry over between stanzas. These are things that I know are parts of the poems I love, so I implement them into my own. 

I know now that I am capable of writing every day. There is usually something worth saying when I sit down to the typewriter, some memory, some emotion yet unexplored. This is the key to the pearly gates. A poet’s work is like any other; its productivity is in repetition, not only inspiration. The challenge, the scariest unknown, is whether I can pair inspiration with repetition. As of this moment, I know that I can. This is worth knowing above all else, because this tower of poems cannot exist without it. 

I don’t know how this collection will turn out. I have no outline, no guiding themes, no list of memories. I don’t want one. I have no interest in writing from a checklist. In answering my essential question, I am investigating the nature of expression. I want to know where my ideas come from. I want to know the source of these poems. Because I’ve learned that these poems are not to be forced, but they are instead to be stumbled upon. That is the biggest unknown: what I am writing tomorrow, and all the days after.