Revising Poems for Fun and Profit PART I

How many times do you revise a poem (or any piece of writing) before you call it done? Take this handy dandy Quiz and figure out your revision style.

I tend to revise my poems—

__ Never. Every word I jot down is golden. I channel my muse directly.
__ Once. I say what I have to say and move on, but check for potentially embarrassing typos. Just in case my mom reads it.
__ 10 times. Once for content, once for grammar, once for alliteration, etc.
__ 100 times. I'm a bit compulsive-obsessive. Or ADD. Hey, look! An ornithology poem!
__ I am never finished. Poetry by nature is (re)vision.

Most of us fall somewhere between ten times and never finished. The best thing to do after that initial outburst of creative frenzy is to put the poem away. That's right, you heard me. Drop the poem. Back away. Leave the poor baby gasping in the harsh light of day. How long you leave a poem sit depends on your personal process. As long as I get the kernel of my idea down on paper, I'm happy. I know it will be there waiting for me when I'm ready to revise. Distancing yourself from any piece of writing before revision is a good idea. It gives you a chance to be more objective, and look at the work from a new perspective.

Before you start, save a copy of the poem to a new file. "Original Poems, or Poem Ideas." Just in case. When you are ready to give yor full time and attention to the poem, REVISE. Look for clunky, phrasing, unnecessary adverbs, weak non-descriptive fluff, passive voice, and all the other don'ts listed in good writing books. As always, remember what your intent for the poem is. If you want to write about a weak, passive person, then maybe weak, passive words are what you want. You can always save cut lines in a file if one strikes you as just perfect- but not perfect for this poem. Aim for clarity.

If you say something is 'green', what do you mean? Is it emerald, olive, jade, lime? Is it immature, inexperienced, naïve? Do you mean an area in the city for people to use like a park? Are you speaking of a political party? While you want to avoid the clichéd, "Green as grass" you also want to avoid the obscure. "Green as Verdigris paint" will leave everyone but artists scratching their heads over what color you mean, or cause them to supply their own meaning. Revision is a form of tightening. Get out the wrenches and go to work. Tighten, back off, tighten, back off. Take a long look at the piece. Is it tight enough? You want the poem to squeak… but not to chafe. Nobody likes chafing.

Next Time-
The Poem Whisperer: Titles, Tones, and Tribulations

Out West...

We like our horses pre-Painted!

Gnomes! We got gnomes!

Thanks to Scott Oden and his insidious plot to take over the world, my blog is now infested with gnomes.

Not just any gnomes, no, I couldn't get garden variety garden gnomes, I had to get nefarious underpants gnomes. The UP Gnome wouldn't leave until I let him have the Lucky the Leprechaun boxers I bought for a friend.

The gnome promptly shrunk them down to gnome size, placed them on his head, and ran off in the direction of Beth Ciotta's blog, muttering about how his Evil Overlordness, Scott, would cackle with glee and twirl his cheesy mustache.

There was also some comment about being unleashed on the village idiot, but I didn't catch it all. Powered by the awesome energy of underwear, the little guy was mighty quick.

Since I'm only a minion, I bear no responsibility for this whatsoever. It's good to be an underling! (*sits back, with popcorn, to watch the show*)

Free Verse Is Not A Free For All

"Free Verse Poetry, what's that all about?" A question from a friend who is often bewildered by modern poetry in general. She likes reading it, but was raised in the grand tradition of Poetry That Rhymes. Don't get me wrong, I love Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson, Robert Burns and a plethora of other rhyming poets. I've just learned to widen my scope and dig for influences. Most poets don't spring forth from the head of Zeus, fully inspired.

Western poetical tradition (As opposed to Eastern or Oriental tradition) has a keen interest in poetical meter down to poetical feet per line. In the English language each foot usually has a syllable with a stress and one or two without a stress, presented in a pattern. Other languages may vary depending on the length of the vowels and the number of syllables in a word. Up until the last hundred years or so Iambic Pentameter was one of the most popular forms of meter in the English language. For examples, read Shakespeare. Read him anyway, for the pure joy of how language should look on the page and sound in your mouth.

Popular opinion blames Walt Whitman for the downfall of rhymed poetry or the schism that occurred when he published Leaves of Grass and liberated poets to embrace free verse as a style. There was freedom to use poetry and language in a brand new way. Whitman wanted poetry to be 'natural', without the constraints of traditional meter and rhyme. I see the influence of Whitman on the Beat poets, on Ginsberg. and reading one then the other is an eye opening pleasure. We cannot escape our past, and as poets we need to mine the past for inspiration as much as we observe what is around us.

From Wikipedia article: "Free verse is a term describing various styles of poetry that are not written using strict meter or rhyme, but that still are recognizable as 'poetry' by virtue of complex patterns of one sort or another that readers can perceive to be part of a coherent whole."

Free verse is not totally without rules. Free verse poetry still has to hold together internally, to have cohesion and coherence, to make a point, to follow a pattern. In its own way, free verse is as rule bound as a sestina or villanelle. If you want to create a good free verse poem that is.

Kosmos
by Walt Whitman

WHO includes diversity, and is Nature,
Who is the amplitude of the earth, and the coarseness and sexuality of the earth, and the great charity of the earth, and the equilibrium also,
Who has not look’d forth from the windows, the eyes, for nothing, or whose brain held audience with messengers for nothing;
Who contains believers and disbelievers—Who is the most majestic lover;
Who holds duly his or her triune proportion of realism, spiritualism, and of the aesthetic, or intellectual,
Who, having consider’d the Body, finds all its organs and parts good;
Who, out of the theory of the earth, and of his or her body, understands by subtle analogies all other theories,
The theory of a city, a poem, and of the large politics of These States;
Who believes not only in our globe, with its sun and moon, but in other globes, with their suns and moons;
Who, constructing the house of himself or herself, not for a day, but for all time, sees races, eras, dates, generations,
The past, the future, dwelling there, like space, inseparable together.

The POV Is Always Greener In Other Novels

I was having a discussion with another writer about POV. I started a new novel in first person, played with the characters a while to get a feel for them, outlined, then rewrote the trial chapters in limited third person. That is the POV I decided to use. After explaining my thought process to my friend, he landed on me with both feet. Something along the lines of "if that was the way the muse first brought it to you, than that is the way it is meant to be." He must have a tidier muse than me. Mine likes to dump half formed ideas in my lap then disappear for a while, leaving me to wrestle with plot hydras.

I admit the lure of first person POV was seductive. I just wasn't sure I could tell the story I wanted to tell stuck in one person's body. That's not the way I like to write. I like having a few main viewpoint characters, and then the antagonist's perspective. I like being able to have the antagonist plotting, and the protagonist bopping along, unsuspecting. As a reader, it is what attracts me, so naturally I'd like to write that way. The reader knows something is coming, but the protagonist doesn't. Cheap way of ratcheting up the tension? Maybe, but that's what writing is all about, isn't it? Guiding the reader along the path you choose, showing them what you want them to see? Writers are an evil bunch, why would my friend think I'd want to be 50% less evil than everyone else?

I don’t like reading first person POV stories. There have been a few that grabbed me, but it is something I will have to study in depth before I attempt to write anything substantial that way. When I think of fantasy, I think of big, sprawling epics. (Not quite George R.R. Martin sprawling though, I do have my limits.) First person POV seems too narrow for what I want to write. I noticed a majority of my poems are in first person, even though they aren't necessarily about me. In poetry I call it first person universal. I'm speaking on behalf of everyone that has been in the situation I'm describing. Big of me, yes, I know.

On the other hand, a historical fiction short I am writing is done in first person. It works much better from a limited scope. I want the reader to only have access to what the protagonist sees and feels. Maybe this is my version of training wheels—get a handle on writing in first person by using short stories then build up to a novel. I don’t know. I like third person limited for what I do and think I handle it fairly well. Change is not bad. It's just difficult.

A Touch of the Fae

Then there is my other favorite dog breed. Pembroke Welsh Corgis. Another dog I did not intend to own, but they ended up owning me anyways. First came Maximus, the tricolor. A friend's rancher brother had Corgis. There were going to be puppies. "Get one for your eldest son," friend said, "then your son and mine can do Dog class in 4-H." Sounded reasonable. We were dogless, all we had was a black cat named Anubis that thought he was a dog. So we said okay, and became the slaves to a bossy black, red and white bundle of fairy dog. Max. Such a change from the little Egyptian devil dog. While both breeds were loyal and wise and smart, Corgis had one thing over Basenjis. They were obedient. They want to please.

After a year with Max, we wondered how we ever lived without a Corgi. So much personality, so much life and empathy packed into that little frame. Max refused to believe he was not a German Shephard. He believes he is buff and bad, the protector of the family, supervisor of all tasks, big and little. He reigned as the Official Mascot of the Wyoming Celtic Festival & Highland Games, bestowing kisses and goodwill wherever he went. Enter my friend again. "My brother's Corgi has puppies again. A buyer backed out on a red and white male. Do you want the puppy?" We didn't even have to think about it. What someone once said was true. Corgis are like potato chips, you can't have just one. Enter Merlin, the little red and white magician that stole our hearts. From the first day, he and Max took to each other, despite both being males. They were brothers and they acted like it from day one. There is the occasional snark up over a cow ear or choice sleeping spot but it never lasts long. They wrestle and play like any brothers- brothers who growl and yip and fake snarl that is.

I would take another Basenji, although no more rescues, they are too hard on your sanity. I think two Corgis is the limit - include a cat that thinks it's a dog and we are full up on attention demanding four leggers. Corgis even liked the pet rats and treated them as members of the family, tiny little dogs that needed to be licked and played with. Anyone who come in the house is a friend, in their world what's not to like about a Corgi? Pet me, play tug with me, throw my ball. After all, Corgis were once the favored dog of the fairy realm. I suppose that is where they picked up their penchant for mischief and innocent looks. Also, at times during a walk, or just lying around, they gaze off to a place I can't see, and a big, wide grin appears on their face. I think the Fae come to visit, once in a while, just to see how the Corgis are being treated, and to remind them where they come from. Max, in particular gives me a knowing look, a sappy canine grin, then tilts his head as if to listen for Fae laughter on the wind.

Baroo like an Egyptian

Strangely enough, my two favorite breeds of dogs share a lot in common. Big.... heck, make that enormous ears, short stature, and plenty of attitude. Personality wise, they couldn't be further apart.

Twelve years ago, I got a Basenji. Her name was Tutu, short for Tutankhamun's Princess Something Something. We figured Tutu was really 2-2, or twenty two miles an hour, the slowest speed she raced around the house doing what is popularily called "the B-500, or Basenji 500"

If I had known what they were like, I would have been afraid. Very afraid. But being naive and in love with the little Egyptian monsters, when the oportunity to own one came up, I took it. I didn't read the fine print in the doggie contract. You don't own a Basenji, they own you. It may have something to do with them being one of the oldest dog breeds.

From Wikipedia article:
The Basenji is one of the most ancient dog breeds. Originating on the continent of Africa, it has been venerated by humans for thousands of years. Basenjis can be seen on steles in the tombs of Egyptian pharaohs, sitting at the feet of their masters, looking just as they do today, with erect ears and tightly curled tail.

You can read all about their weird, cat-like traits in the article. It explains a lot about their attitude. "Worship me, I've communed with gods." You can't win an argument with a Basenji, so I did. Worship her. Despite the fact that the dogs name translated from an African word that meant "bush thing" or "wild thing." Despite the fact that Basenjis are often marketed in the US as being barkless, as if it is an advantage. They are by no means mute. Tutu would chortle, yodel happy greetings, or scream like a scalded baby. She had special 'bar-roos' for her people, and after a while you learned their meanings. My least favorite was the one that meant, "You should have secured the paper towels better, because I was forced to shred an entire roll to protect my family from harm".

I've been a member of Basenji Rescue and Transport, known as BRAT since Tutu went to the great pyramid in the sky. People don't realize what they are getting into when they get a dog advertised as barkless and hypoallergetic, get it home, and find out they purchased a toilet paper shredding escape artist that can climb chain link like a monkey, run like an antelope, and squeeze through small openings like a cat. If you aren't prepared to be ever vigilant, and at times stern and unyeilding, then Basenjis aren't for you. On the other hand, if you can find the mischievious nature of the animal endearing, remember their origin as the hunting dogs of Pharaohs, (Who were smart enough to keep them on leashes if they wanted them to stick around), and give them the worship they deem necessary... Basenjis will steal your heart. They are a glimpse into the past, and for a history buff, that's no small thing.