July 23: "The Student," Rules of Poetry, Love and Bone

Billy Collins gives some poetry ground rules . . . 

The Student

by: Billy Collins

My poetry instruction book,
which I bought at an outdoor stall along the river,

contains many rules
about what to avoid and what to follow.

More than two people in a poem
is a crowd, is one.

Mention what clothes you are wearing
as you compose, is another.

Avoid the word vortex
the word velvety and the word cicada.

When at a loss for an ending,
have some brown hens standing in the rain.

Never admit that you revise.
And--always keep your poem in one season.

I try to be mindful,
but in these last days of summer

whenever I look up from my page
and see a burn-mark of yellow leaves,

I think of the icy winds
that will soon be knifing through my jacket.

There are certain rules of poetry that I've picked up throughout my writing life, some very much like the ones that Collins lists in the above poem.

For instance, I was taught not to use the words love and bone in a poem.  Eliminate articles like the and a and an.  Don't say you saw a tree--say you saw a juniper or elm or cottonwood.  Be specific.  Avoid using -ing verbals and gerunds like writing and skiing.  End poems with a concrete image, and, whatever you do, surprise the reader.

I could go on.  You see, each new poem I write teaches me something about writing poetry.  If you're planning on running a marathon, you train for it--with five, ten, or 15 mile runs. And with each run, you become better, stronger.  Artists do preliminary sketches.  Computer programmers design and redesign code.  The Paris Olympics are kicking off on Friday; for most of the athletes, those 17 days are the culmination of a lifetime of conditioning, practicing, struggling, and competing.  

I will say that I like breaking rules.  My Bigfoot manuscript is a collection of love poems, believe it or not.  The word love appears many times throughout the book, breaking one of the rules I listed above.  (I think the word bone appears a few times, too.)  It's a challenge to make old tropes and ideas new and fresh again.  That's one of the most exciting things about being a poet.

I've been a student of poetry for a majority of my life.  When I die, I will still be a student of poetry.  I'll keep writing new poems, breaking rules, pursuing beauty until I draw my last breath.  Every sunrise and moonrise is a call to be a better poet or husband or father, rules be damned.

Saint Marty is always in training.

June 11: "The Student," Summer Vacation, "Poetry Gardening"

Billy Collins writes about . . . 

The Student

by: Billy Collins

She made asterisks

next to passages she liked,

little stars that kept shining

after she closed the book.

Today was the last day of school for my student son.  Summer vacation has officially begun, so he won't be annotating any books for the next three or so months.

Me?  I worked on my poetry manuscript again, among all my other tasks.  Today, I organized poems, created sections, and proofread.  It was a little anxiety-inducing to say the least.  (Reminder:  I have been living with this book for over 20 years.  That's almost as long as my daughter has been alive and five years longer than my son has been on this planet.)  The floor of my office was a minefield of poetry for a good portion of the afternoon.

However, I'm happy with the results.  Maybe "happy" is too strong a word.  It's more like I'm satisfied with my work.  It holds together.  Makes sense.  Feels done.  However, I have been at this point before and then worked another half a decade on various poems.  (One poem in particular took me ten years to complete.)

Saint Marty is cautiously optimistic, which is not an emotion he experiences often.

Poetry Gardening

by: Martin Achatz

Poems spread across the floor, 

sprouts and dandelions

waiting for me to start 

weeding.