ON POETRY ~ WITH MARIAN KENT AND SUSIE CLEVENGER

Following last week's chat with Shay and Kelli about poetry and blogging, I asked the same questions of two more poets who have been around since we all began writing online with such heat in 2010. Marian Kent, who blogs at runaway sentence, and Susie Clevenger of Confessions of a Laundry Goddess are sharing their thoughts on poetry and blogging and I, for one, am so happy about this! 

BLAME IT ON THE BEACH

The beach was weird
sassy breeze pushing waves
to throw rocks at our shins
rain and lifeguards
clearing the water
because of marine life
       (unspecified)
All this in bathing suits
never my favorite
but we pranced and played
sat our fine asses in the sand
for waves to wash over
flicked our hair
       (caught glances)
bleated like goats
pronounced the ocean female
laughed and laughed and laughed
cried hey sister ocean
here we are
sassy and strong and shining

Marian Kent  © 8.08.2019

Sherry: I adore the sass in this poem. Tell us about it!

Marian: I'm so glad this resonated for you, Sherry. It is a simple reflection about how it felt at the beach earlier this summer with my daughter. We both had such a good time, feeling unburdened, enjoying a cool and somewhat strange beach day, and really enjoying one another. Putting aside concerns for a few hours. Not caring what anyone might think. Feeling connected, to each other and to our natural environs. Laughing a lot!

Sherry: It sounds perfect!

Talk to us about poetry: When did you start writing poetry? What does poetry mean to you, what do you love about it?

Marian: I started writing poems at a young age, and wrote a lot in college and as a young adult. But then I put writing aside for quite a few years. I'm not really sure exactly why, but I did continue to scribble in a journal during that time. I bet if I looked back at those old books there would be plenty of poem fodder in there. When my kids were very young I started writing poems again, and then I started the runaway sentence, which started as a sort of mom-blog or soapbox, but almost immediately became a poetry blog. Thank goodness, whew.

Poetry for me is a chance to express or make a brief but (hopefully) meaningful observation. I like using words sparingly, making every single word count. I think I'm always trying to find new ways of describing ordinary moments, feelings, experiences that can be recognized and understood by anyone. I'm going for universal in the specific, or for something anyone could recognize in a metaphor. For me, writing poems requires both abstraction and direct communication, a challenge that I really love.

Sherry: And we love reading you!  What impact has blogging had on your work? Has it helped you grow as a poet?

Marian: Blogging has had a tremendous impact on me. For you, too, right? I mean, Sherry, you and I met because of blogging and my life is so much sweeter as a result!

Sherry: Mine, too, kiddo. My writing was drying up for lack of connection with other writers, when I stumbled on Poets United back in 2010. I will be forever grateful for what that connection has done for my life and my writing.

Marian: I'm so grateful for your friendship and for the whole circle of blogging friends around us. I have been really lifted up and supported by our online community.

Sherry: Me, too, Marian. I am more grateful than I can say for these almost-ten so-rich years.

Marian: Our community of poets challenging one another with prompts and providing gentle critique and encouragement and friendship is simply amazing. It is a blessing.

I'm sure without blogging, I would still be writing, but to be accountable to our online group is really meaningful. Responding to prompts, creating prompts, reading the work of others and providing meaningful commentary, it's all a part of growing, I think. My skill has definitely grown and improved over the years, and I have observed the same in many of our friends as well. It's great to witness a writer working to improve her craft, and to take that journey alongside friends is a wonderful thing. I really admire the writing and the practice of so many of our friends here, and get inspiration from you all.

My blog will celebrate ten years next spring. I'm aware that blogging is evolving, maybe going out of fashion. That is bittersweet, but we cannot continue to grow as writers or as people without change. So I'm good with all of it and feel very grateful and excited for whatever comes next. The runaway sentence blog will always ramble on, and I have a few ideas I'm working on to change things up for the coming decade and beyond.

  

Sherry: We will be watching with great anticipation, Marian!

IF YOU WERE STILL

If you were still,
I could watch the
sun set in your eyes.
I could see what leads
you to brush and paint,
to capture a horizon.

If you were still,
I could hear you
talk to the moon.
I would learn your
night language,
the dream song
of the nightingale
delivering starlight.

If you were still,
I could feel poetry
splash on your skin
in a summer rain.
I would know how
words bloom from
the tip of your pen.

If you were still,
I’d lose my way
to imagination.
I wouldn’t know
a dandelion was
a heart where
wishes seed.

©Susie Clevenger 2019


Sherry: I so adore those closing lines, “a heart where wishes seed.” Wow.  Tell us a bit about this poem, Susie.

Susie: At Real Toads Sanaa Rizvi used Pablo Neruda’s poem, "I Like for You to be Still", as a prompt for our writing. I began to think of all things one could discover in the stillness of a lover or a friend, but also, in the end, if stillness became a command to surrender one’s free spirit, the loss would be unfathomable. It is in stillness and in movement we experience the true beauty of someone. I like to view it as caring with open hands, doing nothing to inhibit free expression.

Sherry: I love that, Susie. Would you share your thoughts about poetry with us? How important is it to you?

Susie: Poetry has been my lifeline. It is a journal of what I feel, hear, see, and experience. I can’t imagine life without it. Even in the first year and a half of my blog, when only one person read it, I wasn’t discouraged, but energized I had an avenue of expression. When I write poetry, I open myself to inspiration. I have a small totem I created that hangs above my desk that centers me, that reminds me even on the days my muse is silent poetry is patient, patient even in times I rail against writer’s block and self criticism.

I begin most of my writing time with a small ceremony. I either open the shades if it is daylight or at night turn on a small glass lamp sitting next to my desk to invite light into my space. I then light incense to calm me, to invite creativity and growth.

I am grateful for my laptop. I am right-handed and writing by hand is becoming more difficult. I have a condition called dupuytren's contracture which forms knotted tissue in my palm. It affects the fine motor coordination, so holding a pen/pencil and writing legibly is a problem.

All the lovely journals I’ve purchased sit empty.

Sherry: Thank heaven for our keyboards!  Has the online poetry world had an impact on your work, Susie?

Susie: Oh my, yes, it has. My connection to online poets has been such a huge resource to learn from. I have met so many poets who have inspired me and been my mentors. I don't think I would be writing at any acceptable level without it. 

I hadn't written poetry since high school. I look back to the first poems on my blog and shake my head at how poorly written they are. I am so grateful to be part of a community of people who write and love poetry. People who encourage me to continue in the art form I am so passionate about.

Sherry: I admired your work back then with awe, just as I do today, Susie. What a glorious journey it has been!

Thank you, Marian and Susie, for sharing your thoughts on poetry and blogging with us. It has been a wonderful chat looking back on an amazing journey.

Do come back, and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!

POEMS OF THE WEEK ~ BY ROSEMARY, CARRIE AND MARIAN

We have three special poems for you today, poet friends, by three wonderful poets, about the combined joy and pain of life and love in this beautiful world.  We hope you enjoy these offerings, written by Rosemary Nissen-Wade of Enheduanna's Daughter, Carrie Van Horn of Net Full of Butterflies, and Marian Kent of Runaway Sentence,  all beloved long-time members of Poets United. Let's not delay another minute! Let's dive right in.

Ghazal of the Air Element 

I introduce into the conversation

the subject of my death.

He decides to stop studying

and train as a nurse.

He asks where he can acquire

my poetry book.

His torch goes out; he gets lost

in the middle of a forest.

Walking through the bush

he blisters his toe.

Here at home I stub my toe and

burn my arm, which blisters.

Love oh love oh careless love ...

all love is in this one.

My soul is crying and crying

the pain of my joy.

Oh darling, my darling

time doesn't stand still.

I sing on the wind and arrange

to meet you later.

I want that you should live

a fine life and strong.


               ***

Sherry: Oh, Rosemary! I actually felt, in my heart, "the pain of my joy", as I read this. That says it exactly - the love, the memories, the joy, the pain of the whole damn thing. Sigh. What a brilliant poem. It's a beautiful form, the ghazal.

Rosemary: I first became aware of the 'ghazal' form about 12-15 years ago. I found it intriguing and beautiful. I didn't register until much later that one of my favourite poems since childhood, James Elroy Flecker's 'Yasmin', is subtitled 'A Ghazel' (sic). Flecker's (which has been featured at Poets United) has a strict form, not identical to what we are now told is correct for the ghazal, but very close to it – and is a beautiful demonstration of how to handle and transcend a strict form.

Other poems I saw labelled 'ghazals', though, did not bother with the traditional complex rhyme scheme, and at the time I encountered them (having missed that point about 'Yasmin') I didn't know any better. I found them fascinating and of course wanted to try for myself. They kept the other main feature of the ghazal, being written in a series of associated couplets: not in a linear sequence, but connected by theme. So that's what I thought a ghazal was, and that is what I attempted in this poem. It's my very first attempt. (I also missed the point that the lines are supposed to be the same length, and tend to be long.)  

I have since discovered and attempted the stricter form, and am now more inclined to call my others 'quasi-ghazals'. However, there are those who say the strict rules are a comparatively recent development. At dVerse, where this month's form prompt is the ghazal, we are invited to write either 'classical' (strict) or 'contemporary' (freer) ghazals, so I posted and linked this old one to see if people thought it made the grade. The fact that you wanted to feature it, Sherry, suggests that something's working! I do think contemporary or quasi-ghazals can make for interesting poems, even if they are not 'correct'. 

In either case, classical or freer, I like the way the lack of linear progression may create a degree of mystery. We are eager to be accessible nowadays – and for the most part I too strive for that, and think it desirable – but perhaps we forget that mystery (as distinct from mere obscurity) can also be a lovely quality in a poem.

Sherry: I think it is especially lovely in a poem. One wants that element of wonder, when fortunate enough to achieve it. Carrie's poem carries the same awareness of life and death as yours, Rosemary. Let's read:

SOULS AND HORSES

Like ghosts we walk through miracles never knowing how close 
we come
For we cannot see what we do not believe
But in another life we were horses
Where no fences gated our hearts
Free to be what we truly were
We galloped far beyond what could be seen
Grazing truth all the while
And always hungry for more
Like a mighty wind our spirits pushed through
Making themselves known to all
For freedom does not linger on regret
Nor feed on darkness
It moves on gallantly in the light of day
and those willing to let go
Will dare to jump any fence that comes their way
But that was another life and time
The rising dust of a distant star
Here we walk through miracles never knowing how close 
we come
Ghosts cannot touch, but merely pass by in silence
And we cannot see what we do not believe.

                        ***

Sherry: How I love "in another life we were horses....." This is such a gorgeous poem, Carrie!

Carrie: I wrote Souls and Horses for the Muse photo prompt. The photo was an older horse being stroked by a human hand and it made me think of how sometimes humans can be so limited by what they believe and what they see before them. Horses always represent such strength and freedom and the poem just grew from there. 

Photo by Tatiana from Pexels

Thank you so much for all you do Sherry! I am blessed to know so many talented and inspiring people on blogger at Poets United and other writing communities. You Mary, Sumana, Susan, Rosemary,  Magaly and Sanaa are amazing!

Sherry: Thank you, Carrie, for sharing your poetry with us, and for your long loyalty to Poets United. You were here in 2010, when I arrived. Smiles. 

Marian Kent was also one of our first members. Her poem expresses the way I have been feeling this past two years, watching our society unravel. Let's take a look.

Marian: I'm so flattered that you asked, and would be honored. I'm copying the poem below. I wrote it two years ago but unearthed it (because of that Facebook memories feature) and of course it is so much more relevant today than when I wrote it. Our society is broken, everything keeps breaking, I am broken, and yet am surrounded by love. As I'm sure many of us have been feeling. And it's been another cold and rainy spring here :)

Observing Love, Broken Things

I threw open a window

to melancholia

of cold and rainy spring

Lonely breezes blow in

like electricity

raising gooseflesh

straggled strands of hair

All I can think is

there’s so much love

yet everything is broken

Sherry: That is what creates so much grief and puzzlement in me, Marian. There is so much love, yet everything is broken. I am seeing and hearing things I never thought I would see in North America, so many hard-won human rights being rolled back. How we will put it all back together again is the question.

You said exactly what I feel but haven't known how to put into words. Thank you for closing this feature off so brilliantly, and for your long membership at Poets United.

Well, my friends? Food for thought in these poems, and emotions that resonate. Do come back and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Happiness

Happiness

               BY JANE KENYON

There’s just no accounting for happiness,

or the way it turns up like a prodigal

who comes back to the dust at your feet

having squandered a fortune far away.

And how can you not forgive?

                                  . . . .   (read the rest of this remarkable poem HERE at the Poetry Foundation.) 

~

Midweek Motif ~ Happiness

For this week's challenge I picked two poems for inspiration ~ one above by Jane Kenyon and one below by Marian Kent. 

Your Challenge is to respond to one of these poems OR to choose one or two lines for your jumping off place.  

today i'm five

BY MARIAN KENT

Today I’m five. Too young for sentimentality,
but old enough to appreciate that I’m riding
in a Volkswagen microbus sitting on a cardboard
straight chair between my folks in the front seats

singing along with "Afternoon Delight" when my dad
says She knows all the words to all the songs,
just like her Aunt and I beam with something like
five-year-old pride and never forget it ever.

And then we arrive at our new house, new house!
which by the way is a big tall two-story new house
with a railing on the front steps that’s made
for swinging, so I swing, attracting the notice

of some neighborhood girls, girls! and we girls
go running down the sidewalk across the backyards
through the lumberyard to the railroad tracks
and lob iron ore pellets just for good measure.

Then we’re all in Linda’s screened-in front porch
pumping the porch swing singing in four-part harmony
(altogether now) ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE da da da da da.
And you know, that’s still true, all you need is love.

 ~

       

Please:  
1.    Post your Happiness poem on your site, and then link it here.
2.    If you use a picture include its link.  
3.    Share only original and new work written for this challenge. 
4.    Leave a comment here.
5.    Honor  us by visiting and commenting on others' poems.

(Next week's Midweek Motif will be Social Good.)

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Life of a Poet - Marian (runaway sentence.)

Kids, one of our most active members, and a Poets United staffer, is Marian of runaway sentence . Marian is our New Member/Blogroll Coordinator, and is an active presence throughout our community. She kindly agreed to let us have a peek into her busy life, and it’s a sweet peek, at a happy family, that does my old heart good!

Poets United: Marian, it is lovely to be sitting down with you at last. What led you to blogging, and the cool name of your site?