Catch a Poet’s Draft: A Poem
By Phyllis Edgerly Ring
As a nonfiction freelancer, I try to
spend one evening a month in the company of
poets. It's the deliciously indulgent way I get the inspirational high that
makes writing far more rewarding for me. They've convinced me that
understanding and appreciating good poetry can't help but make all writers
better at what we do, since poetry places huge responsibility on its
practitioners, while also allotting them the fewest words.
Another reason I hang out with poets is that they provide the kind of
inspiration I can grab hold of and run with. Those well-wrought words,
especially when read aloud by those who wrote them, are like ice cream for
my creating self. Visits to galleries, good films, and all of the kinds of
creative inspiration The Artist's Way author Julia Cameron calls “artist
dates” accomplish this, too. But drafting off of poets' work, going along
for their free ride, yields immediately accessible inspiration for my
writer's soul. They've done the distilling for me. It's cheating, I know,
and when they catch on, they'll no doubt boot me out.
Of course, this only works with poetry that both obeys and creatively
stretches the rules of the craft. One of my favorite poets calls good poems
small “memory stories.” Truly good poetry says something I don't have to dig
hard to find, and that I almost always grasp with more than just my rational
mind. Effective and pleasing writing arises when writers reach a flow state.
Taking in good poetry is like hearing the song the poet followed in that
flow.
My poet buddies don't just let me sit around soaking up these goodies
without some effort on my part, however. I'm required to bring along a poem of
my own
each time we meet and though their feedback is always mannerly and kind, sharing
my raw “poems”
is a whole new expression of courage
for me. Each gathering represents risk and I never regret it,
although it's terrifying every time.
I pay this price because I've discovered it always brings new knowledge
about writing, and about life. One such discovery came when one poet described
the concept of “scaffolding” in constructing poems, likening it to that used
to construct buildings. Although it can look impressive in itself,
scaffolding is simply a means to an end and has to be removed when the
building's complete. Poets must eventually comb through all the words and
phrases, however pleasing some may seem, to reveal the bare essence of what
the poem is trying to say.
This, of course, is what all writers must learn to do but I still think
that poets, who are out there armed with the smallest number of words from
which to pare down, are really some of the bravest people I know.
There are lots of ways to nurture ourselves as writers. Here's my plug for
hanging out with poets. Take in their hard-won memory stories, and settle
in for an enjoyable and always-instructive ride.
Freelancer Phyllis Edgerly Ring is an
instructor with the Long Ridge Writers Group. Her articles have appeared in
Delicious Living, Family Business, Hope, Ms., and The World & I.
