Observations

Well, joining the blogosphere propels me into a new experience that I hope to share with you. Sometimes people ask, “Where does a poem come from?” For me, it frequently seems to come full blown, needing only shape and words, but with the theme whole and entire. At other times it is a decision that I wish to write on a particular topic, usually inspired by an event either personal or “borrowed.” It may be the experience of a friend, or often enough events in the news.

My best source is listening. I spend a good bit of time listening to others. Again this might be a conversation, or perhaps listening to a program like the News Hour on PBS, or a feature on NPR.

Nature also plays a big role for me. I hear the sounds of the seasons and see each season’s special attributes. We all talk about the weather, I choose to think and talk about it poetically.

Do you remember your dreams? While for the most part I don’t, except when a poem suggests itself, even with the wording. Then, once awake, I try to retain those thoughts. At that point the words may remain or change. A single word choice may redirect the poem demanding to be written.

Tragedies, deaths of loved ones, joyful occasions, incongruous acts; each may impel a poem. Once, at a local Musicale, a little caterpillar crawled across the back of the chair in front of me. I watched it progress in little squiggles, and on a slip of paper, transfixed, transcribed it’s way. Hans Christian Anderson wrote about an inchworm once upon a time, so why should I hesitate to follow in his steps?

It would be a bit absurd for me to consider my poems on a level with the greats, but they do often enough inspire me to follow their form. My favorite poet is Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J. His use of inscape is a constant melody in my mind. Skeltonic poems that run from one stanza into another in long connected verse inspire me to seek similar embedded rhymes.

Reading is an important tool in writing. Finding a phrase or pleasing combination of words becomes the impetus for another poem. What about dry spells when nothing comes to mind? There are many times when my muse is simply not amused, and keeps her distance. Then, I may write about the fact that I have no inspiration. This latest book is named Observations, since that is really what it is all about. Looking, hearing, sharing, feeling, thinking––observing.