A Question
In the Gothic Quarter, our friend pointed
Out indentations cut like a tally in the old
Roman wall. There had been a market
Here, and the butchers had sharpened
Their knives against the gray stone—
Centuries of sharpening, the way canyons
Are shaped by water, the way we’re shaped
By deaths, marriages, divorces, by the books
We’ve read and remembered, by the ones
We wish we remembered. Mi amor, are we
The stone shaped by so many knives, or
Are we the knives sharpened by stone?
George Franklin
SHORT ESSAYS
Why Do We Write Poems?
Writing begins in memories, emotions, and thoughts that exist as a kind of mental itch. Something isn’t quite right, or if it is right, it’s something that wants to become part of who I am and hasn’t yet. I may feel this for a few minutes and then sit down to write about it, or it may take days or weeks. Writing the poem is not an analysis of these unarticulated feelings. It is a process of allowing them to speak.
Poetry as a Way of Thinking
It is too easy to play Socrates here and ask, “What do you mean by “poetry” and how do you know?” Instead, I’ll jump right to my conclusion: poetry is not just a genre of literature; it is a way of thinking. This way of thinking doesn’t seek objectivity like journalism; it explores our subjectivity, how the world and our lives appear to us.
Waiting for Poems
Poetry is not a steady job, and when we’re unemployed, it’s not a good feeling. The waiting we have to do goes against all our cultural upbringing, and we often look to craft to reassure us. If we only take the right “generative workshop,” read the right craft essay, or listen to the right podcast, we won’t have to wait anymore. Perhaps, though, this waiting is important. Perhaps, it’s what allows us to write poems that matter, that address the conflicts between all the selves we contain.