Poetry writing exercise for Matt
Howdy, y’all. Enjoying my vacation from my folks’ place in northern Tennessee. Lovely new home, new neighborhood and, for my Dad, a new office. So… now that we’re all caught up.
On an earlier post, Matt commented and asked for another writing exercise. I enjoy; a) writing exercises, and, b) taking requests. So here we go.
I’ve often said that creativity involves breaking things up and putting them back together again. But different like. So today’s exercise involves the matching of narrative elements with descriptive ones… differently.
- Think of an activity you could possibly write a poem about. Let’s say… sailing.
- List narrative elements that go along with that activity; basically, verbs. In our example: getting wet, pulling on ropes, steering, navigating, ringing that bell (I’m not a sailor… maybe I should have chosen differently… oh, well. Too late).
- For each of those activities, write out some descriptive terms. For example, “navigating” might yield, “lost,” “concerned,” “confident,” “ambitious,” “anxious,” etc. At least one descriptive term or phrase for each action, please.
- Now… as usual in these exercises, time to mix it up. Grab another activity. Let’s try… dancing.
- List narrative elements for dancing: flirting, moving, shaking, jumping, gliding
- Now the finisher: write a poem for that second activity where you match the descriptive terms of the first activity with the narrative elements of the second.
Why do this? Two reasons. First, many young (in their poetry) writers have a hard time distancing descriptions from their most commonplace elements. Not our fault; our brains always jump to the most reasonable, usual thing. So when you say, “glide across the dance floor,” you’re not programmed to think about sailing, but about feet, floors, shoes, partners, pretty clothes and (in my case) a rainbow fright wig.
The whole point of poetry is to bring new meaning to a situation for the reader. To expose something unexpected. If you can break apart descriptions from actions, you can start to find out how things truly (or at least poetically-truly) are, rather than just how they seem or are mundanely described.
The second reason for doing this involves extended metaphor; also a toughie. Most people can come up with a quick metaphor to describe one action. Doing so throughout the entire course of a poem is a bit trickier. This exercise forces you to do it; every element of the dance will need to be described in sailing terms.
And, as soon as you start thinking of it that way… there are possibilities, aren’t there? Does a nervous, first-date guy not “navigate” the dance floor? The sound of the band is like waves crashing around him. And he wants to bring the event home, safely. To harbor? To get a glass of punch? Or is “the safe harbor” going to be taking her to bed? Up to you.
Any way that you can force bits of assumption apart, and then bring them back together in new ways… that’s a good exersize. It’s what being a tinker is all about.
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I did one, but I’m not sure I followed the rules completely.
well my attempt at this exercise failed miserably as far as following the instructions. I suppose I was a little too maverick in my following of the instructions, but it did give me an idea that I feel gave me a bettter than average bit of poetry.
So I’ll post it here. Any feedback, no matter how brusque is appreciated.
Wash time in the house of evening
You wouldn’t believe the bits of us
I’ve found under chairs, thrown
over the backs of doors, forgotten
at the back of kitchen drawers, tangled
inside sheets at the foot of the bed.
Everything’s gray in mourning
Who can tell dark from light
yours from mine
I haven’t art to tear it
clean down the middle
some washwater Solomon
You know, I’m not that wise.
I’m rubbing salt on denim
with busted knuckles
to lighten the stain,
before the soap, to soak
take the black from blues
Just let me touch
your delicates
I’ll do the same for you.
All our issued articles
take their turn in centrifuge
agitate, thump, and spin,
rattle trap and drown
then dragged out
quarrelous snakes
intertwined and sinking
fangs from history’s crush
I fold me into perfect square
to mock and better fit
into boxes off shipping docks
your tossed over familiar lines
snapping at the bluster
of stormcloud winds while
the house of evening
finally falls.
Matt — some really nice stuff here. Will comment more later.
Andy- Can’t hardly wait.
Some detailed comments for Matt on his piece, above:
You start off very nicely, and I was looking forward to hearing about other “bits of us.” When you start with something like, “You wouldn’t believe…” it sets up, I think, a real expectation. Which then isn’t fulfilled, really, since the rest of the piece, after the first stanza, doesn’t give us any more pieces.
I think the “mourning” pun is unnecessary.
“Take the black from blues” is a great line.
I like the thought behind “delicates,” but you just gave us “bused knuckles” and jeans and salt… all pretty gritty images, which is at odds with the kinda dainty word “delicates.” I’d rather know a specific — bra, panties, boxers — because it would be, I think, more in keeping with the very personal nature of this.
The fourth stanza is perfect.
And I really like the last stanza; the image of taking this personal stuff, this history, after a round with mechanical beatings, and leaving it out for the storm winds to ruffle. Nice.
I almost wonder if you need those first two stanzas. If you start with, “I’m rubbing salt…” that’s a good, hard, real line. And since I don’t get any additional “bits” anyway….
Lovely, overall. Glad to see something new from you.
Okay, so now for some questions for you.
I agree with your thought about “delicates” here. It’s too damn frilly to be clowning around with those cowboy hands anyway. It seems a bit too silly. I’ll work out another word or two there. But my real problem with this stanza was the rhyme. I struggles with why it’s there. It was accidental, and to me it sticks out like a hitchhiker’s thumb. Since there is no other rhyming in the piece, should I take it out?
Also, the “mourning” pun was taken out in the first edit. I just used the expected setting. My audience is far from stupid and can connect the dots themselves. With your comments I’m thinking perhaps the Solomon line is a bit out of place, and perhaps I could add another stanza about the “bits”.
Now about the “bits”. since this piece is obstensibly about doing laundry, while discussing the dissolution of a relationship/cohabitation, would adding non clothing bits diffuse the impact of the piece?
Just food for thought and hopefully discussion.
I like the idea of the process being somewhat tranparent here.
Thanks for giving me the kick in the pants that got a good poem out of me for a change.
I think what bugs me about “bits” is that it’s not explicitly a laundry word. And when you start with “you wouldn’t believe,” I expect to be informed of what funny, odd, weird, surprising bits are found. If it is just laundry parts, well… I would believe, because we find laundry around. And “bits of us” is kinda metaphoric; I expect you to find pieces of lives, hearts, souls, etc. Not just two mismatched socks and a washcloth. The first line of a poem often sets up expectations, and though the rest of the piece delivers some quality stuff, it doesn’t deliver on the first line, I think.