blogging

washed not quite up

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Yesterday’s poem, ‘washed up‘ is one of my first poems on extraplorer where I feel like I have not quite got to the proper form of the poem.  Most of the poems I write here seem to write themselves a little bit.  They slide out onto the page, and I usually work to some kind of internal rhythm as I write them, a kind of inner knowing of the form which I can pay attention to, and there it is.

The idea of washed up has been stolen by the Emily poem.  I had an idea for a collection of poems called ‘washed up’, and I might still try to make this because it is a glowing idea still.  But I was also very impatient to used the idea of washed up and somehow the Emily poem came along as I wrote the title.

I like most of the poem (and thank you readers who also liked it), but I think that it has got more to come.  I can tell that what I would really like to do is to make the poem more formally restrained than my normal very fluid writing.  The first stanza captures the feeling of this.

‘She set sail
for distant shores
from home.
She stayed indoors.’

The 3/4/2/4 syllables in each line I think set the pattern for what the other stanzas should be like (maybe with some variation).  For me, this rhythm emulates the rhythm of the sea.   I like the idea that the formal restraint could also emulate some of Dickinson’s writing (for example), while the sea rhythms would make it embody the idea of it being washed along the currents.

Another thing that maybe needs to be sorted out (I have only just realised) is that there is a clash of imagery between something in a bottle ‘Glass bottled / tears’ and a notebook which is what I originally envisaged.  I would like to think about these more and see if they should both stay or only one.

As with the formal constraint, I think the use of some rhyme here and there (‘shores’/’indoors’, ‘tread’/’instead’) makes it also have an element of homage to Dickinson’s writing.

I would also like to work out whether I really like the repetition of ‘small hand’ ‘distant shores’.  I think it might be too heavy-handed.

At the end of the day, I was too impatient to post the poem.  I really wanted to have written something, which is a very different feeling to feeling something is ready.  But also, I feel excited that the poem might be something I could craft. For me this is progress because until now I’ve been scared to do too much crafting in case I get self-conscious and can’t write.  Instead this poem is giving me a little gift because it wants to be crafted!  Amazing!  Maybe there are some poems that want to be and some that don’t (poem as a pet  metaphor has snuck in again, hooray, my favourite).

The poem is teaching me how to write a poem.

Awe.

(I would say ‘back soon’ but it might take me a little bit of time to work this out…)

year of the poem – diary

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Perhaps I already had an inkling about the year of the poem.  But I had forgotten all about it.  My sister-in-law hadn’t however, and among my lovely Christmas presents was a Faber and Faber Poetry diary.  This asked-for gift came into the category of things I absolutely did not need – I already had very serviceable book and iCalendar diaries after all – but had an instant on-sight irrational desire for.  I wanted to own a Poetry Diary even if I never even really looked at the poetry diary.  I wanted a Poetry Diary even if a real poet would never use such a self-conscious wannabe item.  I wanted a Poetry Diary because somehow it conferred on me a magical inclusion in the year of poetry doings and poetry imaginings that and things that are important to Poets.

Needless to state, such a wanted but not actually that useful item stayed in its bag until the 10th January.

But on Sunday, there was a moment of glimmering quiet when I felt like getting it out.  It turns out that I do have a use for a Poetry Diary, and I am using it to record my postings and ideas for things.  I do have a normal daily journal where I write down poem things, but if I finish the journal before I use the idea, it gets a bit lost.  In the Poetry Diary, I can record ideas as I have them, as they flit in and out, and then when I have forgotten how to write, I can flick through and stir them all back up into a flutter.

And I can record mini milestones – ‘most likes ever; 18’ – and overlook poems that turn to blog dust – [no likes whatsoever, not even accidentally] – but see a developing journey that helps me recall that I am on my way to somewhere, and coming from somewhere and although it is a vast unknown, there is a little thread of titles and ideas and thoughts that is held in place neatly by days and weeks and months, and I can ponder the mysterious and beguiling thought that the diary has gone ahead of me…

And then, when I look at the diary’s other pages, I am immersed in the evidence of a quiet hum of poetry across time and space, inhabiting the hearts of those who sit quietly and allow the deepest realities to surface, or who catch joyful moments in their nets and tickle them into words.

And I feel love.

It seems that my relationship to the Faber and Faber Poetry Diary 2016 goes far beyond need.

year of the poem – action

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Hot on the heels of the revelation that the year of the poem arrived of its own accord (‘thoughts‘) was the impetus to take immediate action.

So I did:

* I researched a poetry course
* I asked for poetry course tutor recommendations
* I rang up the poetry centre
* I booked a poetry place
* I ordered the poetry books of the poetry tutors

My lurking fear of my poems being annihilated by the glare of flesh and  blood onlookers seems to have lurked its final lurk.

I may say that this is in no small part due to you, readers of extraplorer, who have performed a fairy godmother-like ting of wand onto my poetry, turning it from ether to real by the mere click of your ‘like’ button.

Thank you.

(The poetry course is not for a few months so I am excited to see what unfolds in the ‘year of the poem’s adventures in the meantime.)

 

the year of the poem

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Almost the minute I pressed ‘publish’ on the post discussing ‘poetry resvolutions‘, I felt the sick feeling of having overcommitted myself instead of maintaining a ‘free spirit’ feeling about the year.  Why make something  a ‘project’ that is perfectly happy being a joy?  Why imprison something fleeting and mysterious in a cage of expectation?  I contemplated deleting the post, liberating myself from my own too-quickly imposed concept.

Well, I haven’t taken the post down yet.  Instead, I decided that I will be in charge of what the ‘year of the poem’ means to me, and it will certainly not involve anything that compromises joy.

The idea of the ‘year of the poem’ is to be an enabler, a permission giver.  By orientating my attitude toward poetry, I make it more likely that I will devote space in my life to poems, words, silence, story, experience, contemplation.  These things bring some of the deepest joy I experience in myself, a different joy to the joy I experience in the presence of other people, a very valid and precious happiness of my own.  I know from my observations so far that space for poetry is the quickest to disappear and the slowest to return. It is easily overwhelmed by to-do lists, travel, chores, demands and needs. While I don’t want to slip into a battle metaphor I do want to be alert to everything I can do to create a little space for poetry whenever it wants.

Like a pet, maybe!

(I am now completely distracted by the idea of poetry as a pet, and a thousand thought avenues of pondering whether this is a good or bad metaphor for poetry itself.)

Come back, come back!

I’m still not quite ready to make resvolutions (maybe I will put a question mark in the post title to let myself off that hook), but I can report that I have so far found two possibilities – a WordPress poetry boot camp in April, and a series of residential poetry courses.  I have asked my poet friend to recommend which of these he thinks would be the best for me.

Two small notes:

* A friend sent a message to say that they wish for a poem to be published in 2016.  Thank you!

* I read a poem which included the line ‘you are truly the poetry of God’ – a phrase of such power I had to put the book down. What could that possibly mean for my life? For all our lives?

So I think these things are the kinds of things that the year of the poem means, and I will try to be open to new ones and to growing and to what is still unknown…

 

poetry resvolutions

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I have decided to (secretly) pronounce my 2016 the ‘year of the poem’. I have nearly finished the book project which I have been working on for a number of years (along with my other work). There will be more spare time, and some of this I want to devote to a more sustained rhythm of poetry writing.  I have been inspired by my friend’s book to explore more of my creative history and to be braver about actively doing the things that will make me a better poet.  This includes things like writing every time I have even a small idea, sending more poetry to competitions and finding more places where I will receive advice from people I trust and respect.  I might even host a reading, although the ‘look at me’ nature of this concept makes me squirm.

Directly approaching poetry makes me feel a bit worried.  My experience of poetry is a lot like looking at the stars only out of the corner of your eye, so that you really see them sparkle whereas if you look straight on they diminish.  I feel a risk that if I really consider poetry on purpose it will run away and I will be left with the options of abandoning it with fake insouciance or chasing it down like an errant date. ‘Call me! Text me!’ (etc).

But not approaching it directly also has risks.  I feel the risk that the poems are a bit floaty; even that they show signs of neglect. With more input they might become more muscular and vital. I want to balance the tenderness of my writing with real fire and I feel that for this they may need extra help.

These are the kinds of things that the year of the poem might help me explore.

In the spirit of The Happiness Project, I am going to decide on some poetry resvolutions. I have not thought these through yet but I will be back with some options and a decision. The resvolutions need to be the right shape; not too restrictive so I get unhappy and not too vague so I don’t grasp them.  I have decided to call them resvolutions (silent v or silent s as you wish) because I hope over time the impact of the small steps will be large.

Happy New Year of the Poem!