The Contemporary Poem

No, I don’t play competitive sports or shoot up heroin. I don’t go on morning runs or watch the Super Bowl. I get my adrenaline from the scores and lighting in movies seen in theaters and the smell of cooked arroz con leche from Washington Heights bakeries. My poetry often reflects the many rants I have with myself, in my head, on a daily basis. That smell of arroz con leche inspired a love note to my favorite neighborhood in Manhattan. The score of the film Queen & Slim brought a piece about children wanting power out of me. My poems are usually about other people, but I never take the time to notice how frequently the things that trigger my senses provoke the way I express my thoughts about them. I wrote a poem about a boy this past June that, after re-reading it, I realized was inspired by my reusable Starbucks cup with desert rock and cacti patterns on it. Another one of my pieces was derived from studying gothic architecture, specifically in the texture of the Chartres Cathedral’s outside walls and windows. I am drawn to art of all kinds, as long as it indulges my senses. I then incorporate this physicality, or at least I attempt to, into my poetry. I have yet to find a taste that provokes my poetic thought, but I am on the hunt for one. Who needs drugs or athletics when there are movie soundtracks, your grandmother’s cooking, and Art History classes?

In simplest terms I would respond with everything! My day to day walks around campus, the conversations with close friends, the intense UNO game nights in the suite, the car rides around town and everything in between. I tend to pay particular attention to things that interest me such as the blooming blossoms on the spring Geneseo trees, digesting a new culture, language, and experiences of a friend studying abroad, as well as the latest news regarding friends and advice. Whether I am paying close attention or not, I am always taking in information, processing it, and storing it for later. I am going to be completely honest, I have barely read poetry. The only source of inspiration from my past poems come from in-class examples and personal experiences. Though I have read a few pages of the well known book “Milk and Honey” I feel as though that does not make me anywhere near qualified as a true poet. Through this poetry workshop, I hope to find myself as a writer, and specifically, a poet. I hope to further my skills and compose a plethora of pieces in which I am proud of and can compare to earlier works. I am beyond excited to give my all and expand my horizons in this workshop class. 

I am what may be gently referred to as a “packrat”. Any harsher than that and I’ll get too defensive for you to convince me to edge the Vogue Magazine back issues I’ve been hoarding under my bed for some time now into the recycling bin. Paper tends to be my weakness for its flexibility – I decorated my walls last year exclusively with the legs of X-Acto-wrested models, now it’s several images from the American Got Milk? campaign. Just over a month ago I insisted on taking my girlfriend on a tour of Sturges, convinced that the building was on its last legs given the recent mass exodus of the health staff, clubs, and history professors, solely for the purpose of taking what they had all left behind – paper. Doodles, advertisements, misdated posters, flyers for STD prevention – I shoved it all into a cardboard box and took it back to my house for a gleeful day of cutting, snipping, and otherwise repurposing. Several totes and, most recently, one particularly large accordion file in my room are dedicated to holding these paper cutouts. Catalogues and fliers are dissected by me for their crispest images, most catching typography, and whatever else I’m convinced that I can make use of (hint, there’s a wide berth). Advertisements in particular fascinate me: remove the product and logo, and many an ad instantly becomes some form of basic-level poetry; or at least highly motivational, at worst. 

Wresting the means of art from companies and salvaging it from trash-bins is where my inspiration comes from – dipping my hand into my store and being able to draw out bits of a child’s hand-written homework, a Gucchi model whose eyes I accidentally removed with a poor scissor cut, and a double entendre from a Sun Chips advert sans the chips is the ultimate literary grab-bag; your mind can’t help but working it all over to make a cohesive narrative, just like what happens when we dream.

If someone were to ask me “what poets do you draw inspiration from while writing?” I wouldn’t have the slightest idea on how to answer. Truth be told, I don’t follow or read many other poet’s works (though quite honestly I should). As for sources, at the time of me taking this course I am currently going through a shift in my my main inspiration for writing. I began writing about five years ago. Originally, I used poetry as a coping mechanism to deal with the death of my uncle. His death sent me down a spiral that I couldn’t seem to climb back up from. In my early poetry, I used my uncle’s death as a catalyst to explore my deepest emotions. Fear, loss, anger, and angst were a few of the emotions I drew on. For many years I wrote by drawing on these emotions, however, over the course of last semester, I decided to put my uncle’s memory to rest. I am now currently on a journey to explore new avenues of inspiration. My latest works of poetry have been results of me expanding my horizons. I have recently written poems that draw on my love of music and my feelings towards my colorblindness. In fact, I have delved deep into my colorblindness; in which both I explore its effect on life in a positive light. I have also recently begun looking at other poets works, in order to further develop my own form. In my last poem about color blindness, “ Red-Green, Blue-Purple: Ode to colorblindness,” I took inspiration from Aisha Sharif’s poetry. I hope to continue to look for more sources of poetry and inspiration to make my own.

“It’s Such a Beautiful Day”, dir Hertzfeldt, Don, produc. Bitter Films, distr. Cinemad Presents. USA, 2012. Film.

• A man named Bill struggles with his health and failing brain as his memories slip out of his head. Used as a way to show fear of losing, fear of failure, and fear of not making a difference on this shitty little rock. 

“Hospice”, Antlers, The, dist Frenchkiss productions, Watcher’s Woods, Brooklyn, USA, 2009. Album.

• A man struggles with caring for his girlfriend as she dies from cancer, while simultaneously coming to terms with the abuses which she has delivered him. Used to show struggle, pain, inevitable tragedy, tiny victories and major losses, as well as great structure and instrumentation.

“Låt Den Rätte Komma In” or “Let The Right One In”, dir Alfredson, Tomas, produc EFTI, Filmpool Nord, and Sveriges Television, distr. Sandrew Metronome. Sweden, 2008. Film. 

• A young boy befriends a vampire girl, allowing him to overcome the struggles he faces with his bullies. Used to display an interest in language, purity, beauty in white snow, the joys in youth, young love, happiness in others, hatred, anger, hope, and ambiguity in endings. 

The biggest complaint my past roommates have had about me is that I listen to music from the moment I open my eyes in the morning to the second I close them at night. For me, music is inseparable from my emotions and memories. I turn to music when I’m writing because music is my scrapbook. My memories and feelings are documented in the music I was listening to when I felt a certain way or something important happened. Because I listen to so much music, it’s difficult to name specific songs that have resulted in poems without going far beyond 300 words. However, I will name a couple that contributed to the last poem I wrote. That poem, “Museum,” was inspired by nostalgia, so these songs are all ones I listened to when I was younger. “Up Up and Away” by Romance on a Rocketship, “The Pursuit of Happiness” by Kid CuDi, “Say My Name” by ODESZA and Zyra, “Hello, Brooklyn” by All Time Low, “Fall for You” by Secondhand Serenade, and “I Miss You” by Blink-182 are a few of the songs that make me feel the emotion I’m trying to convey in “Museum.” Music doesn’t just inspire the content of my poems either. I care more about the sound of my poems than their appearance. The sound my poetry makes is also inspired by music. Recently I’ve been interested in awkward cadences. Two songs that show this are “Daphne Blue” by The Band CAMINO and “Nicknames” by Dayglow. These songs create tension in the way that singer pauses in the middle of sentences, and that tension is resolved in the chorus. This particular sound is something I’d like to explore in poetry.

My goal in writing is to be able to be my most authentic. For me, poetry is a releasing of raw emotions. Complete and utter honesty of emotion is necessary to have a good piece. I don’t believe that the topic or genre of a piece matters but a reader can tell when there is something disingenuous about a piece of writing. It is supposed to make the writer uncomfortable to be sharing so much yet they still do for the sake of their art. Writing exposes what we don’t always freely say. With my writing, I am trying to hone in on my honesty because I feel like that will make my writing better. I sometimes steer away from being too honest because in my head I can almost picture the people I am writing about or just someone who I don’t want to see my writing reading it out loud. That picture keeps so many words in my head and off the page which makes me sad. I want to be less scared to be very explicit because I want to get my thoughts out there and see what I can really do with my art when I’m not scared of consequences.

I start every portfolio letter with saying that the writer’s portfolio is well-constructed. I geniunely mean that statement. Every portfolio that I have had the pleasure of reading is one that is well constructed, sometimes to the point where I’m afraid of toppling the house of cards with a possible revision suggestion. But lately, it feels like I’ve run out of comments.

I am currently in two creative writing workshops. I really enjoy both of them, and I have learned so much about myself as a writer from taking these two workshops. One workshop, poetry, was a genre I felt comfortable in, but still forced myself to grow in. The other workshop, fiction, was in a genre I had not written in a while, and learning to orient myself to being a prose reader and writer was a challenge. I am responsible for writing letters for all the writers in my fiction workshop, plus the select few from poetry. Suffice it to say, I have written a lot of letters. I also think that the more I write on a piece, the more helpful it will be to the writer, especially if I think my letter is lacking and I think of something in workshop. This amounts to many comments I have made on other people’s pieces.

My schedule next semester means I cannot take a creative writing workshop next semester. This development upset me, and I will miss the regular practice of writing, as well as the workshop environment, very much. The next two semesters are very demanding on my second major. Next semester, I will be in Block V, the last block before student teaching. This block contains four education classes, leaving me with very little room to fit a workshop in. Unlike previous education courses, they all take place during workshop times, instead of being slightly earlier in the day. In Fall 2020, I will be student teaching. This entails two placements, certification tests, and no other classes to be taken. Spring 2021, the semester where I will graduate, will be the semester in which I will have the opportunity to take my final workshop and the Senior Seminar. Needless to say, the opportunity to be in a workshop environment won’t come for a while.

How do you plan on writing regularly? What is your reflection process? Let me know in the comments.

As we approach the end of the semester and I sift through all my poetry to form a cohesive portfolio, I am forced to reflect on my writing and what I aim to accomplish as a poet. Like some of my peers have expressed, I have no idea who I am or what my purpose is (both as a person and as a poet). I tend to draw inspiration from my life and write about topics often overlooked. For instance, this semester I’ve written about a negligent, yet semi-present parent, the personification of mental illness, and the overbearing/outdated views of certain religions. To me, these topics are very important and need to be talked about. But how will my poetry help accomplish that? Without publication, my words might as well just stay in my head. I’m realizing the importance of publication and broadcasting, which gives poetry its full meaning. Even if I were to simply share my poetry with my friends, family, and/or peers, I’d still be broadcasting my work and therefore, sparking conversation on the topics. I’ve finally grasped the importance of sharing my poetry, because it has the power to, at the very least, bring attention to certain matters, and at the most, inspire people to make a change.

I’m so glad I read that essay/chapter on revisions with regards to translations. After my last workshop and since recovering from the mental exhaustion of writing a Japanese haiku, I want to take the English portion up a level (or a few). Currently, its as literal a translation as I could think of, but as we’ve talked about a lot in this class, a translation does not have to be direct or word for word. Sometimes, the better translations are not direct but manage to encompass the ideas of the piece in its first language better anyway. Susan Bernofsky talks about her experience translating “Letter to Edith” by Robert Walser, particularly a line involving the declaration of war. Ultimately, Bernofsky decides that the effect of the phrase in German is more in the sound/reading than the literal meaning. The line rhymes in German emulating a drunken sensation. Bernofsky decides that the idea of war is not what is essential to the translation so much as how it reads. She ultimately decides to remove the declaration of war from her translation to create a smoother, drunker rhyme in English. For Bernofsky, this is a more accurate translation of Walser’s writing as well as a better English piece on its own. She stresses the importance of translations standing on their own. A good translator creates a powerful piece in a new language. More than a summary for people who could not read the other text, the translation should function as its own exciting piece.

Overall, Bernofsky’s views on less direct translations are something I want to keep in mind as I edit my haiku. Maybe the readers want to know exactly what I said in Japanese, but more than that, they want a meaningful poem. Especially since its my own poem, I shouldn’t hesitate to deviate from the Japanese version. Since I wrote it, I’d like to think any version I write should be working towards a certain vision and I just need to find the version that expresses my thoughts best.

Of course, I don’t want to stray too far from the form of the Japanese (after all, this originated as a attempt at an untried form), but I shouldn’t let it limit me so much either.