My recent writing life has been a combination of working hard on revisions to my novel (yes, still the same one I started in 2018!) and practicing a poetry form called the pantoum.
On the last day of my July contemplative writing retreat I told my teacher Miriam Hall that my morning pages practice had become somewhat stale and I’d been skipping it in order to make time for my revisions. I’d been kind of wanting to write more poetry but felt like I didn’t really know how to deliberately write a poem, since most of the poems I’ve written just happened. I was also having problems with impostor syndrome: I’ve never studied poetry, if I’m going to write it I should really do that, take it seriously, etc. etc. (An exception to this is haiku, because I took a class in it with Miriam a couple of years ago).
Miriam suggested I play with form: pick one that appealed to me and just try it out. She rattled off a few names of forms and sources to learn about them: pantoum, sestina, Mary Oliver’s Poetry Handbook…
At lunch that day I told two other writers, both poets, about the conversation. One of them said Pádraig Ó Tuama just did a blog about pantoum, and forwarded it to me. Since his prompts were to write a blog about time, it seemed like a good place for me to start. He gave eight prompts for eight simple lines, and said to complete them, then rearrange them into the pantoum form. The first day of my solo retreat after the other writers left, I followed his instructions. What came out was this:
Ready
Today it is time for me
and I am ready
though yesterday I loved togetherness.
As I write, I return to myself
and I am ready.
When I was younger I was a poet
(as I write, I return to myself)
I couldn’t have known to not forget:
When I was younger I was a poet.
And anyway I couldn’t have stopped.
I couldn’t have known to not forget:
I had a dream I’d create beauty.
And anyway I couldn’t have stopped,
though yesterday I loved togetherness.
I had a dream I’d create beauty.
Today it is time for me.
For a couple of weeks after that, I practiced: one pantoum a day. Sometimes I wrote an eight-line poem, then rearranged the lines. Other times, I started with a brief journal-style entry about my day, then underlined phrases I thought had poetic potential and copied them into the pantoum form. The results were mixed, but the process was fun and informative on many levels. Here are a couple favorites that emerged from the journal entry method.
Visiting an Elder
To savor what remains
I visited a while
I’d not been up in ages
She’s surprised how well she’s doing
I visited a while
So stooped, so frail, skeletal
Surprised how well she’s doing
So slow
So stooped, so frail, skeletal
Just take her in
So slow.
The storytelling of it.
Just take her in
The loose skin and flesh
The storytelling of it
Hanging on
The loose skin and flesh
Still caring about life
Hanging on
It took me a long time
Still caring about life
I’d not been up there in ages
It took me a long time
To savor what remains.
Telling a Three-Year-Old Not to Throw a Book Over the Railing
She kept pushing the boundary
Asking, Why?
I said, It could hurt
It’s a long way down
She asked, Why?
Things go faster the further they fall
It’s a long way down
Let’s blow kisses instead
Things go faster the further they fall
It made her laugh,
Let’s throw kisses instead
Or throw a giggle
It made her laugh
I said, it could hurt
Let’s throw a giggle instead.
She kept pushing the boundary
This is beautiful.