Poetry (pen) Pals #20
Finding the poem you need
I’m sure I’m not alone in finding poetry reading, and writing, exceptionally cathartic.
I feel like I am both drawn to poetry that I need, and the right poems seem to find me when I need them.
At some point in every day, normally before I sit down at my laptop, I’ll grab any poetry book off my shelf and randomly turn to a page. Sometimes I’ll try to do something similar via the internet (including on here) or on social media but the old algorithms can play havoc with the random vibe I’m going for. Not to mention I then find myself twenty minutes later writing down a recipe for some sort of ultimate vegetarian soup.
When I’ve found a poem I’ll read it slowly. Out loud ideally. Pause to consider it. Sometimes I’ll go in for a second or even third read. I never regret the time spent. Sometimes it will be the exact poem I need for the day ahead or for that moment. Spookily so. Or it might be a poem giving me the words to articulate how I’m feeling. Even helping me to identify what I’m feeling in the first place, telling me something new, teaching me.
If I’m feeling brave I do this choosing-at-random thing right before I run a journaling workshop or a live call which demands a poem be read at some point. Try to trust that the exact right one will turn up. Only once can I remember a slight panic when nothing felt right.
On other occasions I’ll know exactly the sort of poem I’m looking for and head to one book or place in particular. For example, when I am craving a connection with the outdoors or not feeling grounded, it’s Mary Oliver every time.
Mary Oliver, Wild Geese, from the anthology with the same name, 2004.
I used to know this poem off by heart. I don’t anymore but certain lines will still suddenly return to me when required.
Here’s the other thing, perhaps the best poems leave enough space so the reader can apply their own meaning? Whether that be the entire meaning of the poem (when I struggle to understand what a poem is about I like to tell myself that this is because it’s been left open to interpretation, ha). Or when a poet says, “this, I’m talking about this, and how do you feel about this?” When a poet is skilled and confident enough to let the reader take what they personally need from a poem - well isn’t that a delight. Those poems that you read once and enjoy but then read again and notice how they open themselves up in new ways. Those poems that have an ending which is interpreted differently by everyone in the room. Ahh bliss.
Maybe that’s another reason that I discover the right poems at the right times - that I’ve been lucky enough to be reading great poems!
And here’s where the cathartic nature of writing poetry comes in for me. Allowing myself to be vulnerable enough to not know where a poem is going to end up when I start. That I will go where I need to go. Or heading into a poem knowing that it might be sticky or uncomfortable (remembering the limits of a pen and paper of course) but that I’ll probably (most of the time anyway) feel better for writing it. In the famous words of Ernest Hemingway, “write hard and clear about what hurts.”
This may well be the reason that many of my poems never see the light of day. This is not always the reason; I carry self-doubt in one hand and difficulty knowing when a poem is ‘finished’ in the other (which, btw, is one of many reasons that I love this gorgeously supportive community on here who fully embrace a WiP). But there are some poems that were never written to be shared. Poems that are too raw or that might be hurtful. Poems that were written with compassion, for myself. Poems that have ‘done their job’ via the process of being written.
And that can be enough.
Origami, by Safa Maryam from the book So Long as you Write, published by Dear Damsels.
Your Writing Prompt for this Week:
You might say that this is more of a reading prompt but let’s see how we go.
I thought this week you could pick out a poem that you personally find cathartic. A poem that tends to your needs and heals your soul a little. Maybe it’s one that you turn to often. One that holds you. Or maybe just a poem that is what you need right now, today or this week.
‘Step by step’ by Koboyashi Issa, translated by Bownas and Anthony Thwaite.
It might be a poem that is very obviously that way intended (I think these might be called tonic poems - we explored this briefly a few months ago with this prompt by Jo Flynn) but perhaps not.
When you have your chosen poem, write free-hand for a page or so (or until you run out of steam) about how you experience the poem. WHY does it feel like such a tonic to your soul? What makes it work for you? Afterwards you might also want to make a few notes about how you think the poet has achieved this - if that sort of thing appeals. But form and structure are likely to be secondary here.
Pick out anything from your own writing that stands out. A couple of lines? A statement? Anything you could work with? Could you write your own version in your own words?
Maybe, maybe not.
Alternatively, ignore this first part and just write the poem that you need to read or write currently. It could be as beautifully simple as the one by Kobayashi Issa above. Take what you need.
I am about to go into two weeks of school holidays where I know I’ll need to contend with balancing excitement and fun with overwhelm and pressure. I’m keen to have another look at that Mary Oliver poem. Will what I write end up as a poem at all? Hmm, I don’t know. Does that matter in this instance?
If nothing else shall we take a moment to celebrate how poetry has the power to do this - to take hold of our hands and listen.
To give us that long pause where our needs can be heard.
Nelly x
P.s Please can we share any favourite poems that we choose on Friday this week too? I’m sure I won’t be alone in wanting to read these!
P.p.s I wrote this post entirely independently of
‘s post last week. I had to schedule it ahead of time due to us being away for half term camping in a signal-less field. How beautifully do they flow?!?! We have both spoken about that same phenomena of poems finding us when we need them. And then both our posts linked up. You can imagine how much that has made me smile. Anyway, as you were :)
I really love that 'so long as you write' book - there is a short story in there called "Baby" which is really clever which I think about all the time.
I really liked Wild Geese by Mary Oliver