GROWING POEMS!
I love to write poetry for so many reasons. One of them is that they are short pieces and can encapsulate so much. I can put something down on the page in a short amount of time. (Poems usually arrive with me quickly but this doesn’t mean they require little work. Following the initial inspiration comes the editing – but that is another story!).
Today I wanted to share a wonderful treasure that I have been dipping into:
‘How to Grow Your Own Poem’ by Kate Clanchy is full of simple ideas, that anyone can use. This book has stimulated my imagination, been a source of fun and given me access to the unusual!
I love the first exercise – The Table. It’s a poem by Edip Cansever – Translated, from Turkish, by Julia Clare and Richard Tillinghast. It’s about a man who comes home, with a particular feeling, and begins to put items on a table. First they are concrete things and then they become more abstract – For example, memories, experiences of the day, thoughts he had, wishes, snippets from his life, which could appear random. It ends with how the table is managing the weight of it all.
Kate Clanchy suggests that poems can provide us with a template, spring-boarding us into our own creations. We can use the form already set down as a pattern to get us started.
So, I had a go at this. I have done three versions so far with different characters! Here is one of them:
THE TABLE
A teacher full of stories comes home,
Puts her violin on the table.
Then she puts her bobble hat, moist with raindrops, on the table and smiles at the way an angel in the nativity play lost her wings.
She puts an old piece of chalk on there along with a bicycle pump.
She puts a half-eaten cheese sandwich on the pile, and a shrivelled peach.
She lets childhood memories slip out over the items – How she painted a beautiful thrush when she was six, and the teacher showed it to the whole class, and how she didn’t know she was capable of such a thing, or how it came out of her own paintbrush.
And the sound of a neighbour telling her and her sister they shouldn’t sit on his wall, and how her sister swore at him.
All the noises from outside come in through the window and plonk themselves on the table, the sound of a car honking its horn and the crunch of a visitor’s footsteps on the gravel.
She puts her wish for a piece of toast on there and her hope for a nice Christmas this year. Her hope that she will find the missing button from her cardigan, joins the display, along with her yearning for peace in the world.
Next to this, she places her isolation and her concern for the children in her class, wishing for their safety over the holidays.
Lastly, she puts her favourite little dog there, wishing it would sit on her lap and lean its little chin on her arm like it did before.
The table is sturdy with thick, old legs. It can hold everything.
The teacher pats it with her hand and says, ‘You are stronger than me’.
* * * * * * * * * * *
This was such a freeing exercise to try. If you are up for having a go, let me know. I would love to hear how you get on!
