Working a Poem

He drove his mind into the abyss where poetry is written.
-George Orwell



I have not really drove my mind anywhere near the place where the Great Poets hang out.  The question is, should I be driving a little more?

Not a Poet

I am not a poet.  I am just someone who writes poetry...heck...I really do not write it at this point.  I really just allow it to come out.  I am fully aware...in the eyes of the poetically wise who judge and evaluate ...some  poems that come out here  would basically just "suck!" 

I mean I love poetry and have studied it at the university level.  I have a gut reaction to certain poems and at the same time I have a mind that analyzes and judges the merit of a poem on "how well it is written". I don't do that with my poems and I do not put them out there to be judged...just read.  I really don't see them as "mine", just something that comes through me.  I am not really, consciously at least, behind the wheel.

Do I Want to Be Seen as a Poet?

I guess, I  do not want to interfere with this "me" less function. It is just pretty cool to allow it and observe it happening. Yet, at the same time I recently have this pull to do up chapbooks and get them out there.  This pull to be published does not make sense being that I see myself as  more of a "plopper -downer", than  a poet,  like the ones I have studied. 

I usually just plop the poem down if it comes out here and leave it the way it is with maybe a few minor tweaks here and there, if I notice anything especially glaring...but I don't necessarily work the poem. I feel like more of a transcriptionist than a poet lol.

The question arises:  Do I want to see myself and be seen as a poet? And if I do...is that a higher level motivation or a lower level?

Either way, to elevate myself into the poet status...I need to "drive the mind into the abyss" and start working the poems that just "come-out".   Do I want to drive?

Do I want to get behind the wheel?

If I do that, am I interfering with something greater than ego desire?  I question: If it was something higher coming through me...why would it come out so imperfectly? Or are they perfectly imperfect...the way it was intended?

What is my real role here?  Am I to use this mind I have been given and drive into the place a so called poet goes?  Am I to tweak these poems/  I  look at this one I posted yesterday, for example, and say..."Wow!  That isn't great!"  Should I try to make it better...and if so, at whose judgment will "better" be?

Not that it has to be great or good even...but maybe it can be better than what it is...maybe I can learn to be a poet, rather than just someone who spits words embarrassingly out on the page when someone or something pushes a button at my core.  right now, I am kind of like a verbal Pez container. Maybe , instead, I can actually use the mind I have been given to spruce the few lines that get splattered on the page  up to make them "real " poems. Would that be helpful or would it be getting in the way of a natural creative process?

Why or why not would I work a poem?

Redeemer Ego likes the idea of me working the poems to meet some "other approved status." It likes the idea of me  being recognized as a "real poet"...having another label to hide the holes and cracks appearing everywhere lately. 

To do so,  I must slip back into judging what comes out here in terms of good or bad. Redeemer would like to take responsibility and credit  for whatever comes out of me if it is considered "good" by others standards  and blame someone or something else if it is "bad" .   It thinks of "my" reputation, how "I" appear. It wants "me" noticed so it is willing to put effort into repairing "my" image .  "Maybe if you tweak this poem," it says. "You might get recognized as a poet."

Do I want to appease Redeemer ego...mine or others for the sake of another label I can place on my cracked exterior?  No !

 Besides:

"What if I fail?" Shamer ego pops up, "What if I can't make them better with my prepping and preening?  What if I make them worse? At least when I  just plop them down...there is no pressure to create something reader worthy...it really isn't about me at all.  I am just an opening  to something within. It is not a job...I am simply like the canister of  a Bic Pen that allows the ink to come out when someone clicks the top. I do not need to put any effort into or be blamed for what comes out. 

If I consciously work it, I will have to take responsibility  for the less than good poetry. " Am I ready for that?  No.

Testing and Experimenting

Hmmm! I do not want to make poetry an ego thing but I do want to test myself to see if I can consciously use this mind of mine to polish off that which comes through me....to make it better (or what I believe will be better in the eyes of teh critics...but I really don't know what that would be lol).  I want to learn the art of creating image and feeling with words like the greats have done.

So I am not going to give in to Redeemer's wish to call myself a poet at this point, just an experimenter.   I am going to give it a try to spruce up a poem, just to see what happens when I do.

As an  experiment in learning to create unique images...I will use my mind, drive into that abyss and highlight all the things I am going to rework in the last poem I plopped out here.  Then I will go back to each highlighted piece and ponder over it for a minute to see what happens inside me and what clearer image or emotional expression I come up with. I am not going to force anything ...just going to open up to what is inside my critical mind as well as inside my non-critical heart.

We will see.


Sunflowers

I think of sunflowers,
bending gracefully in the breeze,
their big beautiful heads
vibrant and reassuring
offered up
so cheerfully
to the fluttering
and humming Life
 that passes by.

I think of the large strong stalks
that hold them up
so easily
and through which
their Life force flows.
I see their broad leafs
in my mind's eye...
extended outwardly,
ceaselessly asking
for more and more
of what is needed to
allow their big giant flowers
to flourish and grow,
accepting
with  shameless gratitude
nature's ever giving
bounty.

I imagine the roots,
I can not see,
extended deep below
the top soil
....
stretching and reaching out,

trusting without sight,

latching on  
to  mother' earths
mammary glands
and nursing freely from
 the loving  Source
of all that is.

I find comfort in this image.
I find myself relaxing
and letting go
into the breeze of my own
little existence,
supported and fed by this body
that holds me upright,
reaching out and asking
for what is needed
to sustain me,
feeling but getting past
my shame of needing;
and slowly,
ever so slowly learning
to appreciate all that
lands on my
outstretched appendages,
transforming it all
into what will help me grow
and expand  up into the sky.


Though I can not yet
see my own roots,
...
I imagine them there
extending
and reaching out
to the Source of everything.
I let go and do my best
to trust that
this connection
will sustain me.
Like the sunflowers,
I am free.

© Dale-Lyn (Pen) July, 2020

Reworked.  The analysis.

1. bending gracefully in the breeze:   Thinking of  a happy, cheerful ballerina...a scene from swan lake maybe...so nothing comes up rather than bending gracefully...maybe rather than "in the breeze"...I could say "in the arms of breeze"...that gets too wordy? ...go back to original supported by the wind?  
2. big beautiful heads? I want to indicate head in there and that it is" big"  ...that is what we first notice about a sunflower, isn't it?...that is what I see when I think of sunflowers...but "big head" is not very poetic is it lol.? ..if we are talking "swan Lake" style we might want to use the image of a crowned head? "Large majestic head?", " Great, yellow crowned head"?..." great majestic head crowned with rays of sun"???
3. large strong stalks: Hmm...that is what they are but in reference to the ballerina image...we may take it a bit further and say "long strong torsos that hold them up and  make them tall"
4. allow their big beautiful flowers to flourish and grow. Repeated image ...what if I say "beings" ? Do we grow before we flourish? What about dance?
5. first ..... Keeping with the body scan of the ballerina we probably should add the crucial element...the pointed toe? "like elegant, pointed toes"?
6. latching on to all that is? okay...now I am branching off into another metaphor all together...lets keep with the ballerina? "delicately connecting and spinning into all that is"
7. then remove part about the latching on
8. I find comfort in this image...simple, to the point...may balance the complexity of the other images...or I could say, " I breathe and settle into this comforting  image."
9. period after "upright" to break up this long winded sentence. I don't think we should ever have to take more than a breath to read a sentence in poetic verse.
10. "Reaching out my trembling limbs I  ask for what is needed to sustain me."
11. What about instead of "feeling"..."blushing but getting past my shame of needing"
12. remove "it"
13. "stretch and lengthen into my celestial home within the sky"...yoga terminology for upward sweep lol
14. next ....: have to get back to ballerina...keep that image going..."my own tattered and worn point shoes" to indicate years of trying and practice?
15.to trust the  connection... "I let go and do my best  to trust the  flow and rhythm of nature's dance"?
16, "allowing the  music of Life to sustain me so, like the dancing sunflower, I am freed."
17. Because there is so much reference to a ballerina...we should make this "Dancing sunflower"?

Okay Let's Put it together:



Dancing Sunflowers

I think of sunflowers,
bending gracefully
in the arms of breeze.
Their great majestic heads,
crowned with rays of sun
vibrant and reassuring,
offered up
so cheerfully
to the fluttering
and humming Life
 that passes by.

I think of their long
strong torsos 
that hold them up
and make them tall,
through which
their Life force flows.
I see their broad leafs,
in my mind's eye...
extended outwardly,
ceaselessly asking
for more and more
of what is needed to
allow their beings
to grow and flourish
and dance,
accepting
with  shameless gratitude
nature's ever giving
bounty.

I imagine the roots,
I can not see,
extended deep below
the top soil
like elegant, pointed toes,
trusting without sight,
while delicately connecting
and
spinning into all that is.


I breathe and settle
into this comforting image.
I find myself relaxing
and letting go
into the breeze of my own
little existence,
supported and fed by this body
that holds me upright.
Reaching out
my trembling limbs
I ask
for what is needed
to sustain me.
Blushing,
but getting past
my shame of needing;
I slowly,
ever so slowly,
learn
to appreciate all that
lands on my
outstretched appendages,
trusting all
will be transformed
into that which  will
help me
stretch and lengthen
towards my celestial home
within the sky.


Though I can not yet
see my own roots,
my own tattered and worn
point shoes,
I imagine them there
extending
and reaching out
to the Source of everything.
I let go and do my best
to trust the
perfect  flow and rhythm of
of nature's dance.
Allowing the music of Life
to open me up,
like
the dancing sunflower,
I am freed.

©  Dale-Lyn, July 2020

 

Hmmm! I wonder which one is better and better to whom or what?  

All is well.