Good morning... barely
The title of Sylvia’s next incarnation is Golden Girl. Those who read this journal regularly may recall my posting one of Sylvia’s poems under an entry entitled “Now this is a nice poem…” or something similar. I was thinking of that poem as I wrote, as well as Sylvia’s own predilection for luminous, subtle description. My goal - and I think I met it well - was to create a work entirely my own with some recognized influence from Sylvia, but not to make it seem contrived or straining toward a poor emulation of her work. I hope I can continue in a similar vein - I really like the tone of the piece, and find it agrees with me even more than did my previous efforts at free verse.
Of course, my style has evolved over the course of nearly twenty years. When I look at Golden Girl, I can pick out my own tendencies, some of which were even present in my adolescent lyric verse. For instance, the use of internal rhyme has been a favorite game of mine since I first began writing, and it continues to be of great help to me in unifying my free verse lines. It also functions to strengthen my lyric compositions, though I seldom use meter or purely external rhyme these days.
I can feel my understanding of poetry shifting; it’s growing into something I recognize, but still find amazing. When I first began to write, poetry was my channel, my outlet; it was a means of expression, yes, but also a way of ordering my feelings. I worked to organize my self-perceived “chaos” into highly restrictive meters, forcing the feelings to march in ordered time and adhere to stringent rules of form. Doing this would help me think, would help me learn to keep my feelings inside until I could externalize them in my writing.
As I’ve mentioned in previous entries, my free verse was first and is still often intended to communicate my observations to the reader. I thus combined my use of the abstract with the transcription of my thoughts and ideas to create my compositions. Sometimes this worked really well; I can think of at least two instances in which I didn’t do too badly. For the most part, however, it caused the compositions to fall far short of their real potential by making the ideas too inaccessible for the person reading the poem.
I’ve recently made it a point to practice including concrete passages in my work, thereby giving the reader a life raft to help them navigate the torrents of imagery. When I consider many of my older compositions, I find the abstract-to-concrete ratio overwhelming to the point that the writing feels unbalanced. I intend to select a number of my better poems and revise them to my present standard; I hope that doing so will help me reach a point where I can consistently expect at least a favorable reaction from editors when I submit my work.
More later... blessings to all!
Of course, my style has evolved over the course of nearly twenty years. When I look at Golden Girl, I can pick out my own tendencies, some of which were even present in my adolescent lyric verse. For instance, the use of internal rhyme has been a favorite game of mine since I first began writing, and it continues to be of great help to me in unifying my free verse lines. It also functions to strengthen my lyric compositions, though I seldom use meter or purely external rhyme these days.
I can feel my understanding of poetry shifting; it’s growing into something I recognize, but still find amazing. When I first began to write, poetry was my channel, my outlet; it was a means of expression, yes, but also a way of ordering my feelings. I worked to organize my self-perceived “chaos” into highly restrictive meters, forcing the feelings to march in ordered time and adhere to stringent rules of form. Doing this would help me think, would help me learn to keep my feelings inside until I could externalize them in my writing.
As I’ve mentioned in previous entries, my free verse was first and is still often intended to communicate my observations to the reader. I thus combined my use of the abstract with the transcription of my thoughts and ideas to create my compositions. Sometimes this worked really well; I can think of at least two instances in which I didn’t do too badly. For the most part, however, it caused the compositions to fall far short of their real potential by making the ideas too inaccessible for the person reading the poem.
I’ve recently made it a point to practice including concrete passages in my work, thereby giving the reader a life raft to help them navigate the torrents of imagery. When I consider many of my older compositions, I find the abstract-to-concrete ratio overwhelming to the point that the writing feels unbalanced. I intend to select a number of my better poems and revise them to my present standard; I hope that doing so will help me reach a point where I can consistently expect at least a favorable reaction from editors when I submit my work.
More later... blessings to all!