Poet's Workshop

photo by Gerry Williams

Poet's Workshop Presents: How to Get a Poem Started by Terrie Leigh Relf ©2003 All rights reserved

Poetry Submissions Update:
At this point, the featured poet slots are filled through December 2003. While I'm still open to submissions, the first available slots begin with our January 2004 issue. Thank you for your patience in this-and all other-matters.

A note from your poetry editor…

I've had a bad case of the flu. My brain is all slushy. I was abducted by earthlings, taken to an underground lab and experimented on. Oh—the horrors! The Horror! THE HORROR!

Ideas for poems? Maybe. But they're primarily reasons (okay, excuses…) as to why this column is so much shorter than usual. Short is good sometimes, right?

Without further preamble, how do you get a poem to start?

First you have to plug it in…

I know the above sounds like it came from a litany of grade school jokes, but there's something to it, don't you think?

How DO you get a poem started?

I've had a number of people ask me this question lately, and I've responded with variations of the following: "well, you know I don't drive"; "pretend you're five"; and "make a list of stuff, then say something about it."

It got me thinking, and I realized I've never written a column about how to get a poem started.

There have been more than a few occasions when I've had time to write, wanted to write, but nothing in my "poetry-in-process" files appealed to me.

This isn't the same as writer's block. In fact, the next time someone wants to hand you a writer's block, give it right back—or pass it on. True, you can build things with these blocks, but sometimes the shapes aren't quite right, and they don't fit with the other ones you have lying around. What's up with this "modular is better" attitude anyway? I say mess it up a bit…(it could be the fever talking, though.)

Poems are about action. Think back to the earlier question, "how do you get a poem to start?" Does this imply that it's something separate from we, the poet? That it's a machine that needs action on our part to work? If it's not plugged in, or if it doesn't have batteries, then it won't work? Where's the poem's power source? That's the important part. It's got to have juice to go, right?

There are a variety of power sources for poems: the poet, the reader, the context of the poem, the feelings surrounding—and filling—the poem…

The power of a poem can grow—can surge—when it's fed the right kind of energy. This comes from our participation in its process, in sharing the poem with others, and with sparking that poetic energy in others.

Poems can drive, fly, walk, skip, dance, cavort, soar, spin, whirl, dive, swim, flounder, splash about, and they can also lie very still, so very still, so very quiet, that they may in fact appear dead…or in a coma…or perhaps, fast, fast asleep.

Poems can wake-up. Shout. Scream. Prance and stomp. They can ponder deliciousness. They can discover something stupendous. They can bury something secretively by the full moon on a dark night. Poems can do whatever they want. They are free, free, free to be whatever they want to, need to, choose to, be.

They are little rascals, too. Given to mischievous deeds in the middle of the night or the wee hours at the edge of sleep. They can mis-match socks and shoe laces just as well as spices and herbs.

What to do to get a poem started? Try a few of these:

1. Let the poem lead you into a room with your eyes closed—no peeking in this game of trust!;
2. Cut out words that you like and put them in a special bag, then draw these words and see what arises;
3. Body talk—what do your toes want to say? Your fingers? What about your belly button and your brain? Get your body parts talking;
4. Are you hungry? Me, too! What would you like to eat—and why?;
5. What's on TV? Create a poetic commentary—or parody--of annoying shows, commercials, etc.;
6. Collect first lines—of letters, emails, notices, poems, articles, books, etc., then play around with the other-this is called a "cento" poem;
7. Play the sensory game: What do I see? What do I hear? What do I taste? What do I smell? What do I feel? What do I think? What do I emote? What do I intuit?;
8. Go some place, take notes about the place. Where did you go, what did you do, who did you do it with, and so forth;
9. Spend time with someone, then "give" them to poetry; and
10. Create-a-shape poems are fun (NOTE: This is great for you doodlers…).

It's important to have fun, to enjoy the process, to allow yourself to just write without that annoying internal editor…Writing poetry is a process; we need to return to it again and again. Poems are like people; they do have a mind of their own, so don't be surprised when one tells you to sit down and listen for awhile. Poems are also like finger painting with the soul, or spirit realm, so don't be surprised if you receive a visitation from another realm. Poems are more than a bunch of words all scrambled up on a piece of paper, so add cilantro y mucho cariño.

Send your comments and questions-and your poetry-to Terrie Leigh Relf at terrie@WritersMonthly.com

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