Claiming Breath
Diane Glancy
How do you begin writing poetry? I would say after all these years I’m not sure. First of all, you read. You have to be aware of what’s being written. Poetry is a conversation. Often while I’m reading, I start a poem. An image will set off another image, or I think of something I want to say. It also helps to know the tradition of poetry, though often there’s something about it that gets in the way. You strain for a rhyme without thought for the fire, the energy of the poem, the originality of voice. Yet I’ve heard others say that structure forces them to work in ways they would have missed on their own.
Begin by getting words down. What have you got to say? Even if you want to remain obscure there has to be coherence on some level. I remember hearing Gerald Stern say, if you get your words in order on the first row, you make room for a craziness later on, deeper in the poem, in a more important place.
Work with what you’ve experienced. I think sometimes, who cares about my ordinary life? But often, that’s exactly what matters.
What idea, impression, image, do you want to convey? Why should I listen to you? Again, (1) read, (2) write what you have to say, & (3) read it to someone. Listen to their reaction, their criticism, & write again. So much of writing is rewriting.
Contemporary poetry says what you have to say in whatever way you want to say. Make sure you have a style, a voice, a certain way of expressing yourself. Where’s your uniqueness, your individuality? You have a thumbprint different from other thumbprints. You have a way of seeing & a way of expressing what you see that is also different. Develop that difference. Take chances with unusual words & combinations. Writing is a long process. Reveal what it’s like to be you.
Do you have something bothering you? Get into it. That will save the trouble of writing boring poems.
Remember imagery, the mental pictures your writing makes, usually thru metaphor & simile. Make sure they haven’t been said before. They have to be new. Tell me something in a way I haven’t heard before. Let an image connect with a thought, sometimes a memory. Get rid of weak verbs. Watch tenses; make them consistent. Use DETAIL! A cotton dress printed with crocuses is usually better than “a dress.” Look for the right word. The inevitable one. Ask what your poem means. What conclusion is drawn from it? Even if not a logical thought, but an impression. Good poems are sometimes simple, on at least one level.
What is life like for you? That’s what you should begin writing about.
Remember also the richness of language. Make sure there’s a lot in your writing. Read your words to yourself. Listen to them on a tape recorder.
The form a poem takes on the page is also integral. Experiment with line breaks, stanzas, the square or prose poem, the words wiggling over the page.
Then workshop a poem. Critiques are usually common sense. Does the poem work? Do you like it? Does it begin at the first stanza or do you really get into the poem several lines later? Do all the parts form a whole? What central thought holds the poem together? What emotion or impression is shared? What stays in your mind after you’ve heard it? Is it in the form it should be in? Is the poem clear? Have you said the same thing too many times? Is the reader rewarded for reading it?
Be interested in a lot of things. Be an interesting person; live a responsible life. Start keeping notes.
I think it’s also important to know why you write. When I go into a bookstore & see shelves full of books, I think why do I do this? Hasn’t it been done better than I can do it? That’s when I have to be able to look in myself & decide, I have something to say too—these other books can move over & make room for
mine.
----