Not Amused

Poet:

I’m sure all poets get extremely sick
of other poets’ struggles with their rhymes,
but let me learn. I’d like mine to be slick;
at present they get punished for my crimes.
I‘ve looked at Spenser’s poems. He wrote well,
but mine? A joke! Where did he learn his craft?
I contemplated curtals - couldn’t spell
its name. And as for Petrarch! No! I laughed.
My writing’s jinxed. No thoughts, I’m in a fix.
Hmmm, do I write this poem, do I not?
Can’t stand it when my mind starts playing tricks
and ends up asking, “Is this all you’ve got?”
  Today, my muse is blazing mad at me.
  “This sonnet’s off,” she hissed - and so is she.

Muse:

You want a muse? Then you need harder work
than banging out a form in whining time,
dropping names to show you read. Don’t shirk
a cut of choppy syntax forcing a rhyme.
The theme, yourself, most poets will dismiss;
confessionals have been done beyond a turn
and bore. It’s wise to give the style a miss:
you’re no Plath. There’s more for you to learn:
inspiration, association define
a poet’s worth. You’ll find them where your mind
is free, so dream and muse, let insight shine
beyond the daily dross: gold’s yours to find.
  A true phrase speaks to every muse in town,
  but less is trash in a cheap and flashy gown.

Inspiration

I've been thinking recently about the inspiration to write poetry, having next to none myself at the moment, not how it comes or what it is - we all know that's to do with the impulse for creativity, among other drives - but when it appears and how we use it.

It seems to me that there are two aspects to its arrival: before a poem is started; after the poem's in progress. The 'before' aspect can work well if the poet's fizzing with ideas and associations and can't wait to get started. That's when a flow ensues and the first draft emerges, the impetus being strong. It's rare, though, for a poem to be almost complete at first go. Most, in my experience, need a number of revisions before they really work, which can tamp down the initial push, but leads, on analysis and careful re-reading, to other associations, word/phrase choices and tightening up, etc. The latter, for me, is part of the 'after' aspect; it can work well, but can cause problems.

One of the main difficulties with the 'after' aspect, I find, is how to keep the poem alive, inspired, fresh and immediate without so much revision that the initial impulse is killed and the whole thing becomes leaden and lifeless. Growing experience of revision can help, as may developing a critical eye when re-reading a poem. Getting the balance right seems to be crucial here.

I have problems if I don't have the initial inspiration to write. Exercises and forced writing over a period of time don't help me. Often the results are inconsequential, dull and flat. Also, if I have to produce a piece of prose, then poetic inspiration fizzles to little or nothing. It seems that I have to be in the right frame of mind and imagination and to have the time and space to allow it to surface before a poem emerges.

I'm aware that the above is a fairly superficial rendering of the issue and needs much more thinking through.

No Noble Rot

 

 

You lift your sniffy nose up high again.
D’you do it every time you’re in the shop
or only when your mood’s about to flop?
Perhaps you’re not far off from needing Zen
to calm yourself when stropping next to Ken
who grabs for goodies, won’t come to a stop,
then crams himself till he’s about to drop.
His stomach aches, he moans. Ignore it. Men!
I’m crying out in need for my lost cream
as well, deprived of stuff that makes me whole.
I stand here hard as chalk, but they all seem
to think I’ll sell, so that’s to be my role.
They’re hoping dozy men stay in a dream
like Ken who’s madly scoffing buns, poor soul.