As some of you know, I've been going to Nashville Poetry Workshop (that Zach began) for a few months now. This week, we're doing a definition/ode to a common thing assignment. Feel free to do one as well!
This article was suggested to me as a good precursor to this assignment:
The definition poem, when looked up online, has a pretty elementary format that's pretty lame in some cases (like this one: http://www.k12handhelds.com/data/samples/poetry/poetry_book.html), but I think one of the best ones I've seen (a former prof of mine's work) is called
A Definition of Terms (below).
Also, what came up in a discussion with a poet friend about Pablo Neruda's poems (specifically the
Odes to Common Things and
Odes to Opposites) is that he's really got an attitude about these poems -- which are more like anti-definition poems. He might
"say" in the title that these things are plain and ordinary (
Common Things), but in his ode to the
cat, the cat is majestic.
I've brought the
Ode to Sadness to the group before, which is a great example. As my colleague who suggested this assignment stated, Neruda's "writing
against his subject matter, which is the point. But calling it an "ode" does something to our lens. We see how necessary sadness is to him, even as he seems to be reviling against it. So, pick some large emotion or state of being and write an ode to it in which you get nasty mean, but not to the point of temper-tantrum. Stick to catalogs of images, etc." In
Sadness, he's basically cursing sadness out.
Just food for thought. Here are the poems that I will bring to group on Sunday:
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A Definition of Terms
By Blas Falconer
1. Cruise, as in,
I didn’t plan to cruise anyone, a verb, slang, to seek a trick, usually at night; no connection to Tom Cruise, beloved actor and movie star. 2. Trick: a noun, slang, a.k.a. "good-love,"
"one-night stand"; a verb, to have sex
with someone of the same or opposite sex,
the number of which often accrues
with increased loneliness and lack of love.
That’s what we became, two potential tricks
that morning at the airport, costars
in some fantasy, the story of two
strangers, their flights delayed, waiting to
board their planes. You watched me. You: a sexy
Spaniard dressed in black, save the All-star
tennis shoes (nice touch). Bored, I watched planes cruise
the runway, drew the same geometric
shape in my book:
circle, circle....but I love
the fear that comes with desire, and I love
to be desired, so though I thought,
No, it’s too
early, not a chance, I’m too tired to trick,
and,
Where the hell would we have sex
anyway, before long I was the one cruising
you, the idea of us, a fleck of light, a star
growing brighter. I walked past you, star-
ing at you with a smile, as if to say,
I’d love
to get it on, passengers and flight crews
too busy fighting or sleeping or gabbing to
see what we were up to, see us talking sex
without talking. You followed me. We tricked
them all. An hour later, I’m alone. My plane tricks
the pull of gravity, taking me home, star-
ward, as the ground grows and grows. The sex
was great: a bathroom stall, a soft love-
grip, buckles, buttons, goodbye kiss, all too
fast to forget, tender to confuse. 1. To Cruise,
to seek comfort in a body. 2. Trick: the cruised,
the lonely, the starved; sex between strangers
who give and take this temporary love.
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Ode to Sadness
By Pablo Neruda
Sadness, scarab
with seven crippled feet,
spiderweb egg,
scramble-brained rat,
bitch's skeleton:
No entry here.
Don't come in.
Go away.
Go back
south with your umbrella,
go back
north with your serpent's teeth.
A poet lives here.
No sadness may
cross this threshold.
Through these windows
comes the breath of the world,
fresh red roses,
flags embroidered with
the victories of the people.
No.
No entry.
Flap
your bat's wings,
I will trample the feathers
that fall from your mantle,
I will sweep the bits and pieces
of your carcass to
the four corners of the wind,
I will wring your neck,
I will stitch your eyelids shut,
I will sew your shroud,
sadness, and bury your rodent bones
beneath the springtime of an apple tree.