A statement of the obvious: Prose and poetry are different. This mind-shattering verity hit me while I've been trying to compose a poem for an upcoming class. In prose, I could catch the wave of the story line ride the crest from one part to the next. The narrative would become alive as the characters gave it life. Composing this poem has involved more wrestling with the words. Through poetry the importance of a give word takes on a new importance. Each word bears many facets to the work, like the sound and shape, the history of use, the denotation and connotation, its ethnic and cultural heritage. Anglo Saxon or Latinized Old French? Concrete or abstract? Rich or poor? A recent migrant word or an ancient word with rooted meaning? A native or alien word? Hand-cuffs, manacles, shackles, restraints all do the same thing but use the word and see the difference. No neutrality exists.
For the poem I'm working on I have a beginning and an end. First line: St. Joe bleeds his martyrdom... Last line: Fort Wayne drinks up, unknowing. The middle has yet to be written, and that is what I'm wrestling with.
It will be written on time, to be reworked.
This poetry experience should be a good one.
Don't get hung up on the ending; it should develop just as a story develops. You might find that the ending belongs at the beginning . . . or the middle.
ReplyDeleteConfused?
Are poets? Yeah.
Let the words lead you to the meaning of the poem.
This is the highest form of bravery for a writer. You're cruising on pure faith in the inspiration and knowledge of the language.
And condensing the language.
I can't wait to read your work.