The first wall I hit was probably the second step. I foolishly disregarded my hollow moments and the resultant was bad. It had the skeleton of something poetic but lacked the meaty muscle of the content. I had to backtrack and swerve around this first wall by going back to step one and bringing with me the beautiful imagery and scene that I had earlier depicted. This helped a lot. The winter forest image gave me something to wrap my mind around and suddenly my poem began to start to form around it. The images of animals, snowfall, trees, and myself became clearer and more transparent to me. Suddenly, writing the poem wasn't some sort of challenge anymore it was letting my mind flow freely. If i were to dissect the thinking process at this point in my poem's life I would say that it had potential but it would have been doomed to fail because most of it was still cliche, unoriginal thinking. One advantage that I did have though was that I was able to identify the faults of my poem. I knew that primarily I had to make a bigger impact on the imagery, and focus a single image better. I drew inspiration from the poem about the fish and used the same techniques in a descriptive manner to help me.
The next wall I hit was much bigger and harder. Like a brick wall reinforced with steel piping and concrete. I had depleted my poetic reservoir and used up all the tricks up my sleeve. But of course to ruin my day, Mr. Allen wanted even more from me. It was ridiculous. I sat staring blankly at my poem waiting for some spark of inspiration that never came. I was defeated because in my head I thought that my poem was as good as it was ever going to be. I was wrong; and if I quit there I never would have known how much my poem could truly become. I took a break from my poem and actually took a walk into the forest behind my house. I made real world observations that I could then transfer directly into my poem. I found a decrepit, old, yet beautiful tree and I instantly knew that I had to include it in my poem. When I got back home I looked through my English notebook to find some of the different poetic techniques. Refreshed and refocused I took a second crack at my poem and found new ideas and descriptions flowing out of me. I revamped my poem; buffing it out with all new ideas and poetic tools. A good hour or so later I knew I was done. My metacognitive realization at the end of this whole experience is that poem is everywhere. In this blog entry alone I notice the aesthetic appeal. The flow of words, repitition, variation, lists and such. It is actually really irritating and now I am actually worried for what irksome quirks I will pick up whilst writing my short story...
I had the exact same problem. At first, my poem was, as you said, just the skeleton of one, and I had a hard time finding the words to make it a real poem. I knew what I wanted to say but I had difficulty expressing it in a poetic way. It wasn't until Mr. Allen pointed out that I need to focus on the scene and the moment I'm in more. I pictured the woods I was in more thoroughly and started to write something that sounded more poetic. But I also hit that second brick wall. I put everything in that I could and Mr. Allen still asked for more. I, unfortunately, couldn't take a walk in the woods to help my thought process but instead walked away from the poem, did something else, and came back with a fresh mind.
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ReplyDeleteNish,
ReplyDeleteQuite the analysis of the poem-writing and discovery process you have done here, much of which that I can relate my own process to. From what it sounds like, both of our poems originally lent themselves to clichés initially, a difficult and frustrating problem to overcome. We also realized that we needed to include more imagery in an effective and creative manner, but I, among many of my Academy classmates, struggled with this concept in the elementary versions of our poems. Another element our poems have in common is that we both somewhat drew from "The Fish" for its poetic techniques.
In the later paragraphs of this blog, I especially like how you discussed the issue of facing multiple walls over multiple drafts and how you eventually realized the importance of squeezing every last ounce of power out of the poetic tools you had. Like you, I experienced the same feeling of "this is the best that it can be" after my conference with Mr. Allen too, but I was particularly struck by how you approached the clearing of that hurdle in the process--by taking a walk in the forest and looking for ways to improve your poem. As I found with my poem, relating to and experiencing the poem, whether visually, like me, or physically, like you, is crucial in order to develop it further. I suppose that I was impressed by your willingness to fully throw yourself into the experience and delve headlong into the poem's meaning by experiencing the out of doors on your lonesome; I think it's what any good poet would and should do if they were "against the wall", so to speak. Recalling your poem from the reading during class, it sounds like you did end up solving many of the problems you faced during the various stages of your poem. And indeed, from a more future-oriented perspective, it sounds like you capitalized on those struggles to make not only that specific poem better, but also future poetry and most definitely other pieces of writing you construct. I tip my hat to you, sir.