Finding the Colors: Recently published writing and photos, April 2023
Jonah, Limes, Hitchhiker, Hosanna, and an Interview
This little poem was published on Plum Tree Tavern. I had responded to their challenge to include specific images of the natural world, places, species, etc. within the theme of eco-poetry. BUT, with NO 1st-person point of view, personification of nature or urban nature, question or quotation marks, dreams, or mentions of poetry or writing. And no cats or squirrels, so I included deer. But my original idea for this poem had no deer. Try changing the deer at the end to a narrator who tastes salt on their tongue and see what you think!
Winter Hosanna
The usual dawn praise of life dances
at the horizon above the valley.
A saline seep flows down the hillside
into the brine spring.
Sun dogs scatter light from ice crystals,
diamond dust drifts until the colours
merge into white, a halo overhead,
rays skewed from horizontal.
The sun dogs move away from the halo,
day moves on in earnest. Deer walk
across the valley, up the other side,
and taste salt on their tongues.
The next two photos of sun dogs are not from a mountain valley but from Kingston’s own Cataraqui River. They were the first sun dogs I have ever seen.
This next little poetic memory appeared in The Rat’s Ass Review. We lived for a year from 1971-72 in Oulu in northern Finland and drove a classic VW bus all around Scandinavia and parts of Europe that year. Those roads sure were bleak in the winter. Reindeer crossing the roads to forage in the woods were a common sight, as were hitchhikers.
My poetic retelling of the biblical story of Jonah appeared in the beautiful print issue of Calla Press (Spring 2023). The poem was based on a dramatic painting by James Patrick Reid and was originally a sacred poetry contest entry. Scholars speculate that the legendary whale was probably not a whale but some other giant sea creature.
Jonah, Reluctant Prophet Oh, that today you would listen to his voice, harden not your hearts. (Psalm 95) My heart hardened by the world, its exhausting polyphony of voices, no argument with God but flight from His thunderstrike of breath, from the daunting prospect of converting the enemy, Ninevah. Job’s pride is mine too. My avoidance of duty, the sailors’ murmurs and complaints about the cause of the storm, their layers of pain squeezed from translucent shadows, attempts to row to land, their decision to throw me into the primeval, surging ocean an ugly forte but not revenge, weight lifted from my shoulders as I accept punishment. The sea monster—a demon, provider of destinies— already there at Joppa, three days and nights with me in its belly as it swam, then a journey on the Tigris, God’s provision of the fastest route from the Mediterranean to Ninevah, and time for me to realign my purpose, to realize that God intends salvation for all.
I am indebted to a friend of mine, Kingston painter Erika Olson, for the studio visit that inspired this poem “Process.” It appeared in The League of Canadian Poets publication Fresh Voices, as well as on their daily feature Poetry Pause. The accompanying photo shows her tiny painting - which hangs by my desk - of the limes in the poem.
I was honoured that The Sunlight Press, a journal for which I’m a “first reader” of poetry submissions, invited me (as well as their primary poetry editor) to provide short answers to some (big) questions about the art of poetry. Hope you enjoy my responses.
A CONVERSATION ON THE ART OF POETRY WITH MEG FREER
1. What makes a poem a poem, as opposed to flash prose?
My view is that line breaks and blank space have to matter in a poem. If one can read a poem and get the same meaning out of it whether it’s formatted with line breaks or as prose paragraphs, then it might be better off as a prose piece. In a poem, you might want to mimic natural speech, with line breaks at the end of sentences or phrases, as in prose. But poetic line breaks in other places can create more rhythmic interest for the reader and make layered meanings possible.
Although flash prose has to have tight and concise language, I think most poems need to be even more concise if possible, to capture all the significance of a moment in time and communicate it to the reader in few words. The meaning of a piece of flash prose might be more transparent and easily grasped on first reading, while a poem might require more than one reading to feel its full effect. Then there is prose poetry, which combines the best of prose and poetry – but that is another topic.
A poem is not, I don’t think, just an anecdote that describes something that happened. If a poem relates an anecdote, something still needs to happen: some music, some metaphor, some disruption of the reader’s daytime logic. I often write about things that happened to me, but I try to allow the poem to go where it needs to go, veering away from the biographical details, if it’s in service of the poem. (John Wall Barger, in interview with Sharon Berg, Event Magazine, Feb 2023)
2. What makes a rhyming poem work?
A rhyming poem works best, I think, if it has a regular rhythmic pattern of stresses, and/or is humorous, or sounds like it could be song lyrics. You can try singing the poem to help hear the rhythm, or see if you can recite it to a recorded beat. The rhymes don’t have to be exact rhymes, but should at least be close rhymes that don’t disturb the rhythm. One danger with rhyming poems is that they often fall into clichéd language of the type you hear in many contemporary pop songs.
3. For emerging poets, what books are good to turn to?
There are many good books on craft, such as Mary Oliver’s A Poetry Handbook, Kim Addonizio’s Poet’s Companion, or The Making of a Poem: A Norton Anthology of Poetic Forms. But you might learn just as much by simply reading some poetry every day. Go to the poetry section of your public library and start checking out books, or explore online journals to find one that publishes poetry you like to read. Read widely, many different authors, to discover the writing styles you enjoy the most and those you don’t.
4. Do you have favorite poems you like to reread?
The poem I probably re-read the most number of times when I was growing up, just for fun, is “Dinky” by Theodore Roethke (a great example of a rhyming poem). Currently, I’m less likely to re-read specific poems (there are too many that I love) and more likely to re-read specific authors or collections generally, but even then there are too many to choose from. I grew up with American poets William Stafford and Richard Hugo as family friends, so I like to revisit their work, as well as that of Edna St. Vincent Millay and the living poet Ricky Ray. British poets: Shakespeare and Milton, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Geoffrey Hill, the wartime poets Wilfrid Owen and Siegfried Sassoon. Canadian poets: Steven Heighton, Anne Michaels, Sue Sinclair, Patrick Friesen, and Lorna Crozier. I also like to re-read certain poems by some of my poet friends. Then of course there are many international poets one can read in translation, such as the great Russian poets Mandelstam and Akhmatova.
5. What are the most common mistakes poets make?
There are many definitions of what a “mistake” is in a poem, but this is my list of tendencies I had when I first started writing poetry a few years ago. I sometimes still have to remind myself to avoid these:
· overthinking the poem and not letting it speak for itself
· imposing “craft” on the poem
· being too wordy, or too abstract
· using passive voice and passive verbs
· skipping over the surface without creating layers of meaning
· describing a scene without a purpose other than description
· using clichés or overused language or too many repeated words
· ending lines with weak words (pronouns, prepositions, articles, conjunctions)
· starting or ending with an uninteresting line
· trying too hard to tie everything up neatly at the end
6. How does a poet tackle revision?
I have a general checklist that I refer to, but ideally each poet would create their own list tailored to their own style of writing:
· Read the poem out loud, slowly, to check the sound and pacing.
· Do I know what I’m trying to say, where the heart of the poem is?
· Is every word and detail in every line essential to the meaning?
· Is there at least one unexpected element or image?
· Does it have rhythm, musical flow, internal rhymes, clusters of similar sounds?
· Does it bring attention to details that others may not have noticed before?
· Is the first line unique enough to draw the reader in?
· Do the last line and the last word create a strong ending?
· READ THE POEM OUT LOUD AGAIN.
7. How does one know a poem is done?
It can be hard to know when to stop tweaking a poem and call it finished, but your inner instinct can give you some sense of when there isn’t any more you can change without changing the character of the poem. In most cases, a poem needs some time before you start sending it out; or, rather, you need time away from it to let yourself settle down from the excitement of having written a new piece. Even a few days of working with or reading other material will give you some perspective from which to look more objectively at your work and do some revision. I wouldn’t call a poem done unless I had revised it and read it out loud numerous times to verify there are no places with awkward wording, or words that are hard to say one after the other, or where the rhythm seems off.
8. How do poets find mentors to work with them through the process?
If there is a regular open mic night or reading series in your area, you might find writers who offer mentoring sessions or workshops, or at least you might find some kindred spirits who would like to work with you in a small group to workshop each other’s poems. Or there may be an organized writing group you can join. There are also many online courses, some free and some for a fee, such as those offered by The Poetry Barn or the Lighthouse Writers Workshop. Some community colleges offer writing programs or workshops. If you sign up for the free newsletters put out by many literary journals, you will occasionally hear about opportunities for mentorship or workshops.
Last - I tried something new on April 13th with a few music colleagues, a multi-genre event of poetry, music and storytelling:
My piano teaching colleague Deb Schuurmans is a talented composer and wanted to try improvising while I read some of my poetry. We asked another local musician, singer/songwriter Gary Rasberry, if he would like to improvise on guitar while I read, and then added on one more singer/storyteller Selina Chiarelli, who played some harmonica and sang some a capella songs as part of her presentation of one of the many legends about selkies. It was lots of fun, and we hope to offer this kind of event again and showcase some other local musicians and poets.
I wish you all good things in Spring 2023!
As always, live with joy, love with empathy.