"Poemy" voice

[matsunosuperfan]

How often do you realize you're writing a certain way just because part of you thinks, "this is what poems are supposed to sound like?"

If I am honest, for me the answer is "all the fucking time." 

Working on ferreting out and actively resisting this impulse! 

Other than Bubba Clinton - who feels my pain??

[wasellajam]

How often do you realize you're writing a certain way just because part of you thinks, "this is what poems are supposed to sound like?"

If I am honest, for me the answer is "all the fucking time." 

Working on ferreting out and actively resisting this impulse! 

Other than Bubba Clinton - who feels my pain??

Well, yeah, sure. Image, sonics, metaphor, some internal structure to hang it on. But for me as a writer and reader a successful poem comes from, evokes, emotion. Spontaneous emotion is the best starting point for me, without it all the polish comes to naught. So I think it’s fine to have techniques in mind but a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars. But when I take a long enough break from writing and consistently reading poems to forget what they are “supposed to sound like” the return is certainly not improved by the forgetting. Nothing wrong with using tools if you can use them to make art.

[RiverNotch]

i got over it

right now, i'm into form, so sometimes my work can sound "arch", but it's not really the same. it can sound "arch" because it *is* arch, because i've gotten too stuck in spenser or because i am deliberately hearkening back to him, and sometimes it's because folks just don't read or hear enough poetry anymore---they clock a piece for sounding different, ignoring the fact that it's actually any good. case in point, but in reverse: the most recent poem of the day, the one celebrating Dolly Parton, has a really "arch" verse in it with "Down from Dover", that if you just read it you might wonder why someone in the 60s/70s would write something like it. only, taking it in as it is, especially insofar as it's a folk song---only *hear* it, be immersed in it---and it works.

apparently that song, too, Dolly wrote when she was just 18. real spontaneous work. spontaneity can be key, but unless you're as prolific as Dolly, it won't work often enough to make one any good. after spontaneity, then there's just not caring. there's just getting over it. there's just writing (and reading) so much that every time you pick up the pen, you're no longer thinking about if your piece "sounds like poetry", you just think if it sounds any good for what you mean for it to do.

[matsunosuperfan]

i got over it

right now, i'm into form, so sometimes my work can sound "arch", but it's not really the same. it can sound "arch" because it *is* arch, because i've gotten too stuck in spenser or because i am deliberately hearkening back to him, and sometimes it's because folks just don't read or hear enough poetry anymore---they clock a piece for sounding different, ignoring the fact that it's actually any good. case in point, but in reverse: the most recent poem of the day, the one celebrating Dolly Parton, has a really "arch" verse in it with "Down from Dover", that if you just read it you might wonder why someone in the 60s/70s would write something like it. only, taking it in as it is, especially insofar as it's a folk song---only *hear* it, be immersed in it---and it works.

apparently that song, too, Dolly wrote when she was just 18. real spontaneous work. spontaneity can be key, but unless you're as prolific as Dolly, it won't work often enough to make one any good. after spontaneity, then there's just not caring. there's just getting over it. there's just writing (and reading) so much that every time you pick up the pen, you're no longer thinking about if your piece "sounds like poetry", you just think if it sounds any good for what you mean for it to do.

 
Yeah!!

---

Consequence

The one I love 
has died. Today, 
that’s a useful lie. 

But one day
it will be the truth
and I won’t know why.

As the reader, I find myself following the same path, and that is a neat trick. The eye wants to glide past the first stanza as being too obvious. But it catches you on the enjambment, which is very clever, giving the stanza multiple possible meanings, which the second is anticipated to clarify...
On reaching the second stanza, my first thought is, why isn't it the same form as the first? But that becomes unimportant when you realize that you can't figure out the truth of the second stanza or the first. Which is maybe the position the speaker is in.
Very nice.

How often do you realize you're writing a certain way just because part of you thinks, "this is what poems are supposed to sound like?"

If I am honest, for me the answer is "all the fucking time." 

Working on ferreting out and actively resisting this impulse! 

Other than Bubba Clinton - who feels my pain??

Well, yeah, sure. Image, sonics, metaphor, some internal structure to hang it on. But for me as a writer and reader a successful poem comes from, evokes, emotion. Spontaneous emotion is the best starting point for me, without it all the polish comes to naught. So I think it’s fine to have techniques in mind but a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars. But when I take a long enough break from writing and consistently reading poems to forget what they are “supposed to sound like” the return is certainly not improved by the forgetting. Nothing wrong with using tools if you can use them to make art. 

Thank you both for replying so thoughtfully. These are wise words.

[busker]

When I write form poetry and want to avoid enjambment, “do it properly”.
Those aren’t serious poems, though. You’re already trying to write in a poemy way and have made it artificial

[Luckieman]

How often do you realize you're writing a certain way just because part of you thinks, "this is what poems are supposed to sound like?"

If I am honest, for me the answer is "all the fucking time." 

Working on ferreting out and actively resisting this impulse! 

Other than Bubba Clinton - who feels my pain??

Well, yeah, sure. Image, sonics, metaphor, some internal structure to hang it on. But for me as a writer and reader a successful poem comes from, evokes, emotion. Spontaneous emotion is the best starting point for me, without it all the polish comes to naught. So I think it’s fine to have techniques in mind but a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars. But when I take a long enough break from writing and consistently reading poems to forget what they are “supposed to sound like” the return is certainly not improved by the forgetting. Nothing wrong with using tools if you can use them to make art. 

Only just found this, Ella - many thanks. You've made a very important point in saying 'a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars'. There's actually a physiological basis for this. The left hemisphere of the brain primarily deals with logic, sequential thought and language, and the right hemisphere with intuition, holistic and spatial appreciation and emotions. I refer to this distinction as left brain-plodding, right brain-flying. I find that poems that work for me (my own or those of others) are born of flight by the right brain. The difficult task for the poet is the effective translation of the holistic images of flight into the sequential verbal form for transmission.

[wasellajam]

How often do you realize you're writing a certain way just because part of you thinks, "this is what poems are supposed to sound like?"

If I am honest, for me the answer is "all the fucking time." 

Working on ferreting out and actively resisting this impulse! 

Other than Bubba Clinton - who feels my pain??

Well, yeah, sure. Image, sonics, metaphor, some internal structure to hang it on. But for me as a writer and reader a successful poem comes from, evokes, emotion. Spontaneous emotion is the best starting point for me, without it all the polish comes to naught. So I think it’s fine to have techniques in mind but a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars. But when I take a long enough break from writing and consistently reading poems to forget what they are “supposed to sound like” the return is certainly not improved by the forgetting. Nothing wrong with using tools if you can use them to make art. 

Only just found this, Ella - many thanks. You've made a very important point in saying 'a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars'. There's actually a physiological basis for this. The left hemisphere of the brain primarily deals with logic, sequential thought and language, and the right hemisphere with intuition, holistic and spatial appreciation and emotions. I refer to this distinction as left brain-plodding, right brain-flying. I find that poems that work for me (my own or those of others) are born of flight by the right brain. The difficult task for the poet is the effective translation of the holistic images of flight into the sequential verbal form for transmission.

It's a delicate balance. My favorites usually hang on an invisible skeleton not immediately noticed. The poem soars on its own but with repeated reading the framework underneath becomes apparent and I realize why it sticks. As a writer, for me it takes a lot of work to edit a poem to its best yet stick to the chosen (or made up) form but I am convinced that is the magical spot, the difference between a keeper and and an okay piece of work.

[Luckieman]

Well, yeah, sure. Image, sonics, metaphor, some internal structure to hang it on. But for me as a writer and reader a successful poem comes from, evokes, emotion. Spontaneous emotion is the best starting point for me, without it all the polish comes to naught. So I think it’s fine to have techniques in mind but a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars. But when I take a long enough break from writing and consistently reading poems to forget what they are “supposed to sound like” the return is certainly not improved by the forgetting. Nothing wrong with using tools if you can use them to make art. 

Only just found this, Ella - many thanks. You've made a very important point in saying 'a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars'. There's actually a physiological basis for this. The left hemisphere of the brain primarily deals with logic, sequential thought and language, and the right hemisphere with intuition, holistic and spatial appreciation and emotions. I refer to this distinction as left brain-plodding, right brain-flying. I find that poems that work for me (my own or those of others) are born of flight by the right brain. The difficult task for the poet is the effective translation of the holistic images of flight into the sequential verbal form for transmission.

It's a delicate balance. My favorites usually hang on an invisible skeleton not immediately noticed. The poem soars on its own but with repeated reading the framework underneath becomes apparent and I realize why it sticks. As a writer, for me it takes a lot of work to edit a poem to its best yet stick to the chosen (or made up) form but I am convinced that is the magical spot, the difference between a keeper and and an okay piece of work.

I think you've just expressed the translation process very clearly. The right brain deals in images, which have to be conveyed by the left brain in words and structures. It's almost certainly an iterative process unless the work product is very short. I woke up yesteday to a five line poem entire and finshed, but that's probably about as much as can be completed in one throw. And I find revision really needs to wait until the right brain takes off for another flight, otherwise I amend and revert (tinkering). The danger is letting the left brain take command instead of being your assistant, as then the right brain shuts down and no more images emerge. I guess this is what frequently leads to mismatch between message and form.

[wasellajam]

Only just found this, Ella - many thanks. You've made a very important point in saying 'a memorable poem, for me, comes from someplace less controlled, the wild bit that soars'. There's actually a physiological basis for this. The left hemisphere of the brain primarily deals with logic, sequential thought and language, and the right hemisphere with intuition, holistic and spatial appreciation and emotions. I refer to this distinction as left brain-plodding, right brain-flying. I find that poems that work for me (my own or those of others) are born of flight by the right brain. The difficult task for the poet is the effective translation of the holistic images of flight into the sequential verbal form for transmission.

It's a delicate balance. My favorites usually hang on an invisible skeleton not immediately noticed. The poem soars on its own but with repeated reading the framework underneath becomes apparent and I realize why it sticks. As a writer, for me it takes a lot of work to edit a poem to its best yet stick to the chosen (or made up) form but I am convinced that is the magical spot, the difference between a keeper and and an okay piece of work.

I think you've just expressed the translation process very clearly. The right brain deals in images, which have to be conveyed by the left brain in words and structures. It's almost certainly an iterative process unless the work product is very short. I woke up yesteday to a five line poem entire and finshed, but that's probably about as much as can be completed in one throw. And I find revision really needs to wait until the right brain takes off for another flight, otherwise I amend and revert (tinkering). The danger is letting the left brain take command instead of being your assistant, as then the right brain shuts down and no more images emerge. I guess this is what frequently leads to mismatch between message and form.

"The danger is letting the left brain take command instead of being your assistant, as then the right brain shuts down and no more images emerge."

ha, this. There's also the danger of incoherence when the right brain runs untethered, but that's easier to fix, at least for me.

Sorry, matsuno, I'm not sure we're addressing your original dilemma anymore. Or maybe I sidetracked the thread from the start. But if you apply it to Luckie's left brain theory, that poemsy voice might be the thing to let go of. With your strong out of the box images one might think that wouldn't be the issue but the striving might be in the way of letting it all come together. Just a thought.

[Luckieman]

It's a delicate balance. My favorites usually hang on an invisible skeleton not immediately noticed. The poem soars on its own but with repeated reading the framework underneath becomes apparent and I realize why it sticks. As a writer, for me it takes a lot of work to edit a poem to its best yet stick to the chosen (or made up) form but I am convinced that is the magical spot, the difference between a keeper and and an okay piece of work.

I think you've just expressed the translation process very clearly. The right brain deals in images, which have to be conveyed by the left brain in words and structures. It's almost certainly an iterative process unless the work product is very short. I woke up yesteday to a five line poem entire and finshed, but that's probably about as much as can be completed in one throw. And I find revision really needs to wait until the right brain takes off for another flight, otherwise I amend and revert (tinkering). The danger is letting the left brain take command instead of being your assistant, as then the right brain shuts down and no more images emerge. I guess this is what frequently leads to mismatch between message and form.

"The danger is letting the left brain take command instead of being your assistant, as then the right brain shuts down and no more images emerge."

ha, this. There's also the danger of incoherence when the right brain runs untethered, but that's easier to fix, at least for me.

Sorry, matsuno, I'm not sure we're addressing your original dilemma anymore. Or maybe I sidetracked the thread from the start. But if you apply it to Luckie's left brain theory, that poemsy voice might be the thing to let go of. With your strong out of the box images one might think that wouldn't be the issue but the striving might be in the way of letting it all come together. Just a thought.

Yes Ella - the right brian always flies untethered because tethered ducks can't fly, and the results are commonly incoherent (as in dreams) at least at first. The poetic craft is in the translation - the first phase of which is akin to the art of the photographer rather than that of the painter. The painter can include or exclude anything they want, whereas the photographer is stuck with what's actually there, and so has to select a viewpoint that emphasises the important. It's partly a process of filtration to arrive at coherence.

'Poemy voice' can be construed win two ways. Either it expresses a genuine failed attempt at expression by using rationally, as opposed to intuitively, selected imagery that doesn't fit an intuitively generated idea (and most of such imagery is well worn), or it can be used as an expression of contempt for style one just doesn't like.

As far as I've come to undestand in some six decades of writing, if the choice of expression is to fit the message properly it must be selected from the widest possible range of alternatives, not constrained by rules or prejudices about what's 'legitimate'. Which is why an assiduous poet's work improves with age - the tool kit from which to draw expression and form enlarges with experience.

[wasellajam]

I think you've just expressed the translation process very clearly. The right brain deals in images, which have to be conveyed by the left brain in words and structures. It's almost certainly an iterative process unless the work product is very short. I woke up yesteday to a five line poem entire and finshed, but that's probably about as much as can be completed in one throw. And I find revision really needs to wait until the right brain takes off for another flight, otherwise I amend and revert (tinkering). The danger is letting the left brain take command instead of being your assistant, as then the right brain shuts down and no more images emerge. I guess this is what frequently leads to mismatch between message and form.

"The danger is letting the left brain take command instead of being your assistant, as then the right brain shuts down and no more images emerge."

ha, this. There's also the danger of incoherence when the right brain runs untethered, but that's easier to fix, at least for me.

Sorry, matsuno, I'm not sure we're addressing your original dilemma anymore. Or maybe I sidetracked the thread from the start. But if you apply it to Luckie's left brain theory, that poemsy voice might be the thing to let go of. With your strong out of the box images one might think that wouldn't be the issue but the striving might be in the way of letting it all come together. Just a thought.

Yes Ella - the right brian always flies untethered because tethered ducks can't fly, and the results are commonly incoherent (as in dreams) at least at first. The poetic craft is in the translation - the first phase of which is akin to the art of the photographer rather than that of the painter. The painter can include or exclude anything they want, whereas the photographer is stuck with what's actually there, and so has to select a viewpoint that emphasises the important. It's partly a process of filtration to arrive at coherence.

'Poemy voice' can be construed win two ways. Either it expresses a genuine failed attempt at expression by using rationally, as opposed to intuitively, selected imagery that doesn't fit an intuitively generated idea (and most of such imagery is well worn), or it can be used as an expression of contempt for style one just doesn't like.

As far as I've come to undestand in some six decades of writing, if the choice of expression is to fit the message properly it must be selected from the widest possible range of alternatives, not constrained by rules or prejudices about what's 'legitimate'. Which is why an assiduous poet's work improves with age - the tool kit from which to draw expression and form enlarges with experience.

I like the painter vs photographer. A painter can actually completely cover the initial thought and come out with a keeper. Not so with a photo or poem, born with an essence that needs to survive in the final product. Agree that style predjudice is unhelpful and not as much fun. Then again, sometimes we rule out what has never been successful for us, another sign of aging which sometimes is beneficial, sometimes not so much.

[Luckieman]

"The danger is letting the left brain take command instead of being your assistant, as then the right brain shuts down and no more images emerge."

ha, this. There's also the danger of incoherence when the right brain runs untethered, but that's easier to fix, at least for me.

Sorry, matsuno, I'm not sure we're addressing your original dilemma anymore. Or maybe I sidetracked the thread from the start. But if you apply it to Luckie's left brain theory, that poemsy voice might be the thing to let go of. With your strong out of the box images one might think that wouldn't be the issue but the striving might be in the way of letting it all come together. Just a thought.

Yes Ella - the right brian always flies untethered because tethered ducks can't fly, and the results are commonly incoherent (as in dreams) at least at first. The poetic craft is in the translation - the first phase of which is akin to the art of the photographer rather than that of the painter. The painter can include or exclude anything they want, whereas the photographer is stuck with what's actually there, and so has to select a viewpoint that emphasises the important. It's partly a process of filtration to arrive at coherence.

'Poemy voice' can be construed win two ways. Either it expresses a genuine failed attempt at expression by using rationally, as opposed to intuitively, selected imagery that doesn't fit an intuitively generated idea (and most of such imagery is well worn), or it can be used as an expression of contempt for style one just doesn't like.

As far as I've come to undestand in some six decades of writing, if the choice of expression is to fit the message properly it must be selected from the widest possible range of alternatives, not constrained by rules or prejudices about what's 'legitimate'. Which is why an assiduous poet's work improves with age - the tool kit from which to draw expression and form enlarges with experience.

I like the painter vs photographer. A painter can actually completely cover the initial thought and come out with a keeper. Not so with a photo or poem, born with an essence that needs to survive in the final product. Agree that style predjudice is unhelpful and not as much fun. Then again, sometimes we rule out what has never been successful for us, another sign of aging which sometimes is beneficial, sometimes not so much.

Thanks Ella - I really glad someone actually agrees (even if only in part) with my meanderings. When it comes to 'success' there are so many alternative definitions. I personally consider a poem successful if just one person other than myself appreciates it and gets its message without prompting. If that happens, however many folk ignore or dislike it, my duty's been done. My task is to contribute to the fond of human understanding, not to win accolades or dosh. But of course that makes me a hopeless proposition for publishers. On another thread there's a discussion about developing one's brand, but to me a brand is merely a mark burnt into the backside of a cow signifying ownership, and I don't want to be owned.

[rowens]

When reading and listening to poems, like music, dreaming, socializing of any sort,
it's pleasant to slide your leftbrain into your rightbrain
and let it enjoy a long, lifelong, bath,
like Hotei lounging by a brook or larger stream in the piedmont slants of the Big Rock Candy Mountains.

Listen to Dylan Thomas

[Quixilated]

When reading and listening to poems, like music, dreaming, socializing of any sort,
it's pleasant to slide your leftbrain into your rightbrain
and let it enjoy a long, lifelong, bath,
like Hotei lounging by a brook or larger stream in the piedmont slants of the Big Rock Candy Mountains.

 


Actually, yes.  This.  Exactly this. ^^^



—-

I don’t think there is anything wrong with writing “in a poemy voice.” I’m not sure I understand the question? Why is it bad if a poem sounds like a poem? Music is always expected to sound like music.

[Luckieman]

When reading and listening to poems, like music, dreaming, socializing of any sort,
it's pleasant to slide your leftbrain into your rightbrain
and let it enjoy a long, lifelong, bath,
like Hotei lounging by a brook or larger stream in the piedmont slants of the Big Rock Candy Mountains.

 


Actually, yes.  This.  Exactly this. ^^^



—-

I don’t think there is anything wrong with writing “in a poemy voice.” I’m not sure I understand the question? Why is it bad if a poem sounds like a poem? Music is always expected to sound like music.

To my rather ancient mind, 'poemy' means no more than using words and imagery that have been proved to work for readers in the past. I fear that many modern writers are so wrapped up in the art and craft of writing that they forget the reader. This seems particularly the case in poetry, which is why modern poetry has limited interest for the public at large (ask any general bookshop manager). Being original (in the sense of doing something nobody has done before) is in reality well nigh impossible given the couple of million years hominids have been thinking, other than by being intentionally incomprehensible which seems futile. The ideal for me is to express an idea that resonates with the reader (i.e. something they can directly relate to already) in an unexpected but appropriate way - a new angle on a recognisable idea.

And yes, music is at least usually expected to sound like music, but the ultra modern squwarks brigade still promote formless atonal wailings and thumpings, and John Cage famously thought he was being very clever by dispensing with sound altogether. I remember a wonderful satirical critique of two performances of 4'33", one of which was apparently head and shoulders better than the other. Is this the kind of bull we want to embrace? Or are we trying to speak to our public in ways they'll understand and appreciate? There's lovely line in the Bogart movie Deadline - U.S.A. in which the ace editor (Bogie) says to a rookie that journalism is a 'profession'. When asked to explain he says: "A profession is a perfomance for public good". To my mind, so is poetry.