As an English lit major, poems are familiar friends to me. But some people find them strange and off-putting. Today I want to encourage you, regardless where you fall on the spectrum of appreciating poetry, to sit with a poem and luxuriate in the finely-tuned ordering of words. It’ll be good for your creative self.
I pondered the wonder of poems the other day when I read an article in our local newspaper about Peter Coyote, who recently published a book of poems entitled Tongue of the Crow. You might not recognize Peter’s name, but you’ve probably listened to him talk for hours. That’s because he has narrated many of Ken Burns’ TV series, including The National Parks, Prohibition, and The Roosevelts. Peter lives in a town that nestles up against my hometown, hence the newspaper article about his poetry. I knew of his narration work but didn’t realize he also is a poet.
Why Poetry?
The newspaper interviewer asked the question you might also want to pose: Why does the world need another book of poetry?
Coyote’s answer: “That’s like asking why does the world need precision, clarity, surprise, beauty and intelligence.” Indeed.
Why Write Poetry?
Peter has written poems all his life, starting at the age of 8. He even moved to San Francisco from the East Coast during the ’60s (yes, he was a hippie) to study the writing of poetry. He concluded that he wasn’t smart enough to be a poet so he left school and went on to become an actor. But he kept writing poems and stuffing them in a drawer. Now is his 70s, he opened the drawer one day and felt sorry for his kids because, when he passed away, they’d be left with all those poems and feel a responsibility to do something with them. So he decided he’d try to get them published.
What kept penning poems, even when he believed he wasn’t very good at it? I believe he answered that question when the reporter asked him: “How do these poems reflect how you’ve evolved over the years?” Coyote responded by explaining how poetry can help you grasp who you are in a given moment. “Trying to figure out who you are is like trying to take a snapshot of a river. It’s hard to know because it’s constantly moving. But I’ve tried to make each moment accurate to my perception of it.” And that’s hard work indeed but greatly beneficial.
The Editing Process
I don’t know that I’ve ever thought about what it would mean to have your poetry edited. Each word has been teased out and worried over as you write; so editing would have to be done with the precision of an Exacto knife.
When the interviewer asked Coyote what the editing process was like, he responded: “Initially, it was humiliating. [We all get that, right!?] He would take a poem that was 12 stanzas long and would find the two stanzas that are the actual poem.”
But, as with all good editors, the writer eventually learns how to see his work more objectively. As Peter put it: “But then…I really leaned how to interrogate poems myself, the way he did. That was the real skill that he taught me…I’m still not completely confident to edit them without Patrick looking at them.” Good man, to realize you never outgrow your need for an editor.
So What?
So what’s the takeaway on my “ode” to poetry? I want to inspire you to sit down and try your hand at a poem. (And to take my own advice. I haven’t tried to write poetry since I was in my 20s.) Alternatively, I want to stimulate you to seek out some poetry to read. As Peter said, each poem has tucked within it “precision, clarity, surprise, beauty and intelligence.” We all could use a dose of that, right?
If you have no idea what poet to read, might I suggest a few of my favorites: George Manley Hopkins, Emily Dickenson, Robert Frost, Maya Angelou, or Sylvia Plath.
While you’re reading or writing poetry, challenge yourself, next time you work on your book manuscript, to take the time to write with precision and beauty. Only good things can come from such an exercise.
Are you a poet? When was the last time you framed a thought in a poem? Who is your favorite poet?
TWEETABLES
How poetry can make you a better writer. Click to tweet.
Why writers should read–and write–poems. Click to tweet.
Yeah, I write some rhyming stuff,
but poetry it’s not,
because I have learned just enough
to know what I forgot.
Mostly it’s an answer
to something someone said,
but sometimes it’s ’bout cancer
and the thought of being dead.
I have no grand illusion
that I stand with the Bard
in my sonnets’ wide profusion,
for writing them’s not hard,
like this one, penned upon the run,
because, my friend, it’s all for fun.
Some things can really only be expressed in verse, like the pun contained in the sonnet below, a pun far to lame to be expressed in polite society.
And yes, I am Catholic.
Pope Pius was a decent man,
beset by darn few vices,
but fell in love with his own plan;
thus, The Cubist Missal Crisis.
He signed a contract with Georges Bracque
for the mass book cover update,
but the Frenchman didn’t have his back,
and the promised work was late.
The College Boys flew in a tizzy,
and each one flapped his bright red dress,
but Pius told them, “I’ve been busy,
and I’ve straightened out this mess!”
But lo!, the Cardinal faces fell,
for the Pope now hired Norm Rockwell.
But your rhymes have brought many a smile or tear to those who read them, Andrew. And that ’tis enough, is it not?
Janet, it’s more than enough. In my fading twilight (my metastasized leg will not let me reliably stand nor walk), the affirmation I have received for my efforts has lit a fire that keeps me warm on these coldest and loneliest of days.
This inspired me to pull out my poetry collection and review some favorites. “The Sugar Lady” by Frank Asch is SO good. And on the less poignant side, I love “Toot! Toot!” by Anonymous. (Both are from The Random House Book of Poetry for Children.)
I’m so pleased that the post caused you to pause and read some poems. Hooray!
Emily Dickinson was a master. She and Walt Whitman birthed a new identity for American poets, who earlier had simply tried to emulate British masters. This is probably my fave . . . and maybe it’s good for us writers trying to make a name for ourselves:
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!
How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!
I’ve always held a special fondness for that poem. Reading it reminds me that–somewhere–I have a CD of a marvelous narrator reading a selection of Ms. Dickenson’s poems. So lovely!
Dear Janet, thank you for this enjoyable post about something I adore to dabble in. As someone who has written poetry since childhood and has been writing a poem a day in my journal for the last five years or so, I can only call myself a lazy poet.
Short and sweet to write or read is my preference.
Ruth Bell Graham said so much with so few words. Besides her bountiful faith and huge sense of humor, I admired her concise way with words. Her poem about prodigals touched my heart at a time when I needed it. A. Lot.
I used to hate being compared to Helen Steiner Rice until recently. She was a late bloomer too. Her work wasn’t discovered until she was 60. Now I feel more accepting my of style. It works for me. Just as different genres of music and literature appeal to different folk. So now I can call myself a lazy poet who has made peace with herself. 🙂
Yes to this quote from your post: “…poetry can help you grasp who you are in a given moment.”
Here’s a poem that captured a melancholy–yet hopeful–moment on a dreary overcast day while I waited in the car for one of my children who was at a music lesson:
Some Days
~~~~~~~~~
Some days are simply set aside
for resting of the soul
when doing just cannot be done
and stillness is the goal
~
Some days are filled with silence
while listening for His voice
when waiting is the wisest way
and faith’s the finest choice
~
Some days are meant for battle
when darts of doubt are shot
extinguishing them with written Words
from wisdom that I’ve sought
~
Some days are gilded with glory
as answered prayers proclaim
that once again our Living Lord
formed beauty from our pain.
~
Wendy ❀ 2013
Blessings ~ Wendy Mac
That’s lovely, Wendy!
Thank you, dear Janet H. 🙂
Blessings ~ Wendy Mac
Wendy, I was the editor for Ruth Bell Graham’s book on prodigals, and I’ve always considered that a special privilege. I remember well her poem on prodigals.
Thanks for sharing some of your work, which is lovely and thoughtful in its own, distinct style.
Wow, dear Janet G. That’s a reminder to me of how small, yet far-reaching, the Christian publishing world is. I recently gave my only copy of that book to a pastor’s wife who was visiting from out of town. (And we both know she will pass it on when she’s finished reading it.) It’s an encouraging read.
Thank you & blessings ~ Wendy Mac 🙂
I write poems to mark moments. I wrote one for each of my sons when they were babies, just so I could remember and cherish those little boys. I write one now and then, because sometimes a poem captures that slice of life better and they are fun. This one was for my youngest son.
Red Head
Not in Bed
Blankets Mussed
Jell-O Dust
Toothpaste Smeared
Biting Feared
Drama Flare
Snuggle Chair
“Angels” Sing
Dreams on Wing
Sweet Repose
Eyes Slowly Close
Back to Bed
My Sleepy Head
Sweet Child
So Fierce and Fragile
Some of this only makes sense to me, like how often he bit his brothers and when the boys dumped out 7 packets of Jell-O and how he’d ask me to sing “Angels” which was Angels We Have Heard On High and how he called the rocking chair the “Snuggle Chair” but it takes me back (he is 13 now!) and that is why I wrote it. To remember that little red-haired baby who was so fierce and loving all at once.
Love this. And totally got the “bites” part of it. Ah, kids.
Coincidentally, two days ago I published a book of two hundred plus prayer poem selections called God’s Near. This has been two decades in writing along with novels and my other books – a passion project I call it. Consequently I was intrigued to read about the poems of Peter Coyote finally seeing print. I wish him all the best!
How lovely that your long process ended up in a book of poems.
Love this post. Janet.
I read a lot of poetry. Most of it doesn’t speak to me but it’s a treasure hunt because when I find that one poem that goes straight to the heart it feels like a gift. It’s as if someone I don’t know has been observing my thoughts and emotions and they can summarize that truth and hand it back to me in a small gift box tied with a bow.
I listen to a lot of poetry on audio books. I believe every writer would find a deeper love for the English language by listening to the lovely cadence of meter and verse in a polished poem. The classics are a lesson in language arts all by themselves. I’ve absorbed more from listening to the words of those dead poets than by reading their words in my antique books.
Socrates in the City has a nice podcast on “Why Poetry Matters”.
And that love of poetry informs your writing in such lovely lines. I’ve come to expect a startlingly apt description, a beautiful phrase, or a rhythmic cadence to your writing.