June 5: "Poems," Writing Projects, "New Poem"

Billy Collins meditates on his art . . . 

Poems

by: Billy Collins

Because words

move from left to right,

the three fish

in the print on the wall,

who are facing the other way,

appear to be swimming upstream.

I've been thinking about poetry a lot these last few days.  Out of necessity.  Currently, I'm working on the final edits of a manuscript that has been over ten years in the making.  If that weren't enough, this month I will finish a second manuscript, as well.  I sort of feel like Collins' fish swimming upstream against the current.  I will eventually get to the spawning pool, but not before I jump up a few waterfalls.

Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy the challenge of poetry.  Love revising and rewriting.  I get great joy in seeing a poem emerge from a slag heap of words on a page.  Poet Natalie Goldberg used this image for the process:

Our bodies are garbage heaps: we collect experience, and from the decomposition of the thrown-out eggshells, spinach leaves, coffee grinds, and old steak bones out of our minds come nitrogen, heat, and very fertile soil. Out of this fertile soil bloom our poems and stories. But this does not come all at once. It takes time. Continue to turn over and over the organic details of your life until some of them fall through the garbage of discursive thoughts to the solid ground of black soil.

 Yes, I'm seeking the solid ground of black soil for my two current writing projects.  I've been composting for quite some time.  There's a whole lot of eggshells and coffee grinds (not to mention Bigfoot scat) on my pile, and I've been turning it over and over for years.

Saint Marty is hoping something beautiful will bloom soon.

New Poem

by: Martin Achatz

That's what I write on the top

of the page before I start

scribbling away, hoping

those two words

sound sweet enough

to attract a waltz of bees

or rave of hummingbirds.