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POETRY WORKBOOKEnglish 9

Shifting Perspectives

Find a photograph that holds a genuine and compelling interest for you. It need not be a “good” photograph – in fact, sometimes, the botched one will have more resonance, especially if you took it yourself and can reconstruct the gap between your astonishing vision and what actually showed up on the print. You might choose a photograph that someone has taken of you or of someone you know, a photograph that is more self-consciously artistic, or a journalistic photograph that documents a historical event.

When you have found your photograph, spend some time writing out just what you see in it in as much detail as possible: objects, landscape, people, clothes, trees, architecture, light, and shadow. In a sense, you will have to narrate the photograph, or at least create a discernible imago so that we can, literally, see what you are talking about. Then, using the same photograph write three different poems from it, from any of the following perspectives or points-of-view:

1. Speak the poem as the photographer.2. Speak the poem as someone or something in the photograph.3. Speak the poem as someone or something in the photograph addressing the photographer.4. Add the poem to someone you know who has not seen the photograph5. Address the poem to someone in the photograph.6. Address the poem to the photographer.7. Write what happened just before the photograph was taken.8. Write what happened just after the photograph was taken.9. Write what happened as the photograph was being taken, outside the range of the camera.10. Write the poem as if you have found the photograph years after it was taken.11. Write the poem as if you were planning to take the photograph.12. Write exactly the same poem in three versions: present, past, and future tense.

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Write about writing

That’s all. Here are a couple of examples:

What would they say if they knew

I sit for trwo months on six lines

Of poetry?

- Lorine Niedecker

This stark room, how simple, they say,

They not being we

Who know it’s easy to be florid,

Not get

To the gut.

The bare branches of the maple satisfy me.

Maybe by noon a bird will perch on one

Like a word on a blank page.

Soon, I hope, the snow will come,

Complete the landscape.

The snow is miraculous every time it arrives,

Like a poem.

- Stephanie Mendel

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The Language of the Brag

Write a brag poem. Brainstorm a list of things you’re good at, moments in your life when you achieved perfection, or something close to it. We sometimes tend to be afraid of bringing attention to ourselves and our accomplishments. What have you done that you’re proud of? Why should others envy you? Choose one item from your list and expand on it, or use the whole list! Apply large words to yourself: courageous, glorious, excellence, power, brilliance. Write as if you are applying for a job as the perfect human being, or be more specific – the perfect friend, mother, child, wife, son, sister, lover, gardener, bus driver, cook, tax consultant, political activist, student body president, doctor, warden, thief, president, anything you were, are, or want to be. Boast!

Her Kind

I have gone out, a possessed witch,haunting the black air, braver at night;dreaming evil, I have done my hitchover the plain houses, light by light:lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.A woman like that is not a woman, quite.I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,closets, silks, innumerable goods;fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:whining, rearranging the disaligned.A woman like that is misunderstood.I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,waved my nude arms at villages going by,learning the last bright routes, survivorwhere your flames still bite my thighand my ribs crack where your wheels wind.A woman like that is not ashamed to die.I have been her kind.

- Anne Sexton

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https://www.poets.org/node/44392


Beauty

Death is the mother of beauty.

- Wallace Stevens, “Sunday Morning”

Beauty is as beauty does.

- Proverb

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,” – that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

- John Keats, “Ode on a Grecian Urn”

The beautiful is the unusual.

- Unknown

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

- Proverb

Beauty fades.

- Character in the film Desperately Seeking Susan

Using one of these ideas as a starting point, write a poem that either argues or agrees with it. Describe one beautiful ting, in detail, in the poem. Avoid conventional, stereotypical images – sunsets, laughing children, fields of flowers. Instead, look for something a bit unexpected, and describe it so we see and understand its beauty. The trick here is to make your argument tor agreement – that is, your point about beauty – through your imagery. You may want to make a statement or two as well, but try to avoid sounding rhetorical or preachy.

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American Burying Beetle

For this exercise you’ll first need to do a bit of research. Pick an animal that intrigues you, or even one that repels you. Find out how it lives, mates, eats, etc. Make some notes and make sure to include interesting words specifically related to that animal. Once you’ve done that, you’re ready to sit down and write, to let your imagination work on the raw facts and transform them into something poetic.

They kill nothing, but fly to the site

at the slightest whiff of the just-dead —

one small body slipping toward

eternity, each cell giving in, the corpse

of an unfledged finch sinking inexorably,

a fraction of an inch at a time.

Beneath the carcass, a beetle pair,

on their backs, digging, twelve legs

thrust as levers, four claws shoveling

earth away. The grave fills with a body

turning to rankness, form transforming.

Beetles depend on the opening death

brings. They pull out every feather,

make flesh ripen into green.

On the altar of existence they condense

life to liquefaction. And when their larvae

waken, white and blind, they will press

palps upon them, one after another,

let them sip from that pool. Flags unfurl

from the tips of their antennae; black

bellies rasp against the crimson scarves

of wings. These are the sorcerer's markings:

death diminished, pulled out from under, undone.

- Barbara Helfgott Hyett

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For the Sleepwalkers

Write a poem of praise for an unlikely group of people, things, ideas—whatever or whoever you think has gotten short shrift or a bad rap. Do as Hirsch does and about halfway through the poem insert a colon and then leap off and dare to say something overtly beautiful or poetic, bizarre or funny. Then return to the poem and tell us what this group has to teach us about ourselves. Also notice how Hirsch uses the letter "w" throughout his poem and how, like a thread, it helps to pull us through the poem. Choose a letter and try weaving it into the language, but don't be overly alliterative—be subtle.

Tonight I want to say something wonderfulfor the sleepwalkers who have so much faithin their legs, so much faith in the invisiblearrow carved into the carpet, the worn paththat leads to the stairs instead of the window,the gaping doorway instead of the seamless mirror.I love the way that sleepwalkers are willingto step out of their bodies into the night,to raise their arms and welcome the darkness,palming the blank spaces, touching everything.Always they return home safely, like blind menwho know it is morning by feeling shadows.And always they wake up as themselves again.That's why I want to say something astonishinglike: Our hearts are leaving our bodies.Our hearts are thirsty black handkerchiefsflying through the trees at night, soaking upthe darkest beams of moonlight, the musicof owls, the motion of wind-torn branches.And now our hearts are thick black fistsflying back to the glove of our chests.We have to learn to trust our hearts like that.We have to learn the desperate faith of sleepwalkerswho rise out of their calm bedsand walk through the skin of another life.We have to drink the stupefying cup of darknessand wake up to ourselves, nourished and surprised.

— Edward Hirsch

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Asking for Directions

Write a poem about the last time you saw a loved one you lost. Address the poem to that person. Include an abstract statement about the relationship. End the poem with something that you did alone, afterwards, an ordinary gesture or action that embodies the emotions you felt.

We could have been mistaken for a married coupleriding on the train from Manhattan to Chicagothat last time we were together. I rememberlooking out the window and praising the beautyof the ordinary: the in-between places, the worldwith its back turned to us, the small neglectedstations of our history. I slept across yourchest and stomach without asking permissionbecause they were the last hours. There wasa smell to the sheepskin lining of your newChinese vest that I didn't recognize. I feltit deliberately. I woke early and asked youto come with me for coffee. You said, sleep more,and I said we only had one hour and you came.We didn't say much after that. In the station,you took your things and handed me the vest,then left as we had planned. So you would haveten minutes to meet your family and leave.I stood by the seat dazed by exhaustionand the absoluteness of the end, so still I wasaware of myself breathing. I put on the vestand my coat, got my bag and, turning, saw youthrough the dirty window standing outside lookingup at me. We looked at each other without anyTwenty-Minute Writing Exercises 247expression at all. Invisible, unnoticed, still.That moment is what I will tell of as proofthat you loved me permanently. After that I wasa woman alone carrying her bag, asking a workerwhich direction to walk to find a taxi.

—Linda Gregg

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Anniversary

Write about what you were doing this time last year, or the year before; what anniversaries would you mark? Don't think just in terms of a death, or meeting someone, or an illness, or a holiday observance— though these are all possibilities. Think about what your life was like in this season, in this month. Use five of the following words: swan, root, mask, pleasure, blind, believe, sit, curtain, flames, love. Use a proper name in the poem. Combine something in the present with that past memory.

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Talking to God

Write a poem to God. Make it a tirade, an outburst, a slanderous harangue. Let yourself go. Or, write a poem in God's voice; let God explain, refute, deny, defend. Make it a monologue or a conversation, whatever you like. Or let God be a traffic cop, a rock star, a manicurist. Notice how Browne's poem consists mostly of cliches and yet, because of the context she puts them in, they sound fresh, funny, new. Use at least one cliche in your poem, but make it new. For instance, musician Sheryl Crow sings "I'm standing in the desert, waiting for my ship to come in."

This poem was written by Susan Browne, who teaches poetry at Diablo Valley College in California. She also attended our workshops, as well as various writers' conferences, to gain inspiration and ideas for her own poetry. Susan proves that the work of learning never ends. Here's her poem:

POEM IN MY MOTHER'S VOICE

When my mother meets God,she says, Where the hell have you been?Jesus Christ, don't you care about anyonebut yourself? It's time you wake up,smell the coffee, shit or get off the pot.You must have won your license in a fucking raffle.You're grounded, and I don't want any back-talk.In fact, don't talk at all until you can say somethingthat is not a lie, until you can tell the truth.You know, the truth? Something in sentence formthat comes out of your mouth and is not a lie.Could you do that for me? Is this possiblein my lifetime? Don't ever lie to me againor I'll kill you. And get off your high-horse,WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?250 THE POET'S COMPANIONRunning around the worldlike a goddamn maniac, creating havoc. You have lostthe good sense you were bom with. Shape up or ship out.I cant believe we're related.My mother lights a cigarette, pitches the matchthrough the strings of a harp, inhales profoundly,letting the smoke billow from her nose.Her ruby lips press together in a righteous grimaceof disgust. She never stops watching God.I've really had enough this time.What do you take me for? A fool? An idiot? A patsy?

Some kind of nothing set down on earth for your convenience,entertainment? A human punching bag? For your information,I was not born yesterday. I know what you're up to.I have been around the block a few thousand spins of the wheel.I have more compassion in my little fingerthan you have in your entire body. I am a mother.I care. Maybe you don't care, but I do. Care.Do you know what that word means? Bring me the dictionaryand I will tell you what the word care means. Never mind.How could you find a dictionary in that dump you call a room.The whole universe of care down the toiletbecause of your dirty socks. Do I look like a maid?Did you think the purpose of my existence was to serve you?You are barking up the wrong tree. We need to get somethingstraight: I am not here for you. I am here for me.But I care. Can you possibly, in your wildest imagination,hold two ideas in your tiny mind at the same time?This is called paradox. Par-a-dox. We need the dictionary.No, we need to talk. What do you have to say for yourself?"I'm sorry," God replies.You're sorry. Well, that's not enough. Wash that sullen lookoff your face, or I'll wash it off for you.And quit looking down. Look at me!Twenty-Minute Writing Exercises 251God lifts his heavy head,falls into the fierce loveof my mother's green-blue eyes.Grow up, she says.

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Memory

What is your earliest memory? Is it of a shadowy face looking down at you in your crib, a broken toy, an accident, a noise, your first day of school? What kind of mental picture do you have of your earliest memory? When you describe it, what words do you use? However early or late, cloudy or sharp it may be, give it a close consideration, for it may be a good place to begin looking for subjects for poetry.

Wind Secrets

I like the windWith its puffed cheeks and closed eyes.Nice wind.I like its gentle soundsAnd fierce bites.When I was littleI used to sit by the black, potbellied stove and stareAt a spot on the ceiling,While the wind breathed and blewOutside.“Nice wind,”I murmured to myself.I would ask mother when she kneeled to tie my shoesWhat the wind said.Mother knew.And the wind whistled and roared outsideWhile the coals opened their eyes in angerAt me.I would hear mother crying under the wind.“Nice wind,” I said,But my heart leapt like a darting fish.I remember the wind better than any sound.It was the first thing I heardWith blazing ears,A sound that didn’t murmur and coo,And the sounds wrapped round my headAnd huffed open my eyes.It was the first thing I heardBesides my father beating my mother.The sounds slashed at my ears like scissors.Nice wind.The wind blowsWhile the glowing coals from the stove look at meWith angry eyes.Nice wind.Nice wind.Oh, close your eyes.There was nothing I could do.

- Diane Wakoski

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Lists

1. Write a poem based on one of the following ideas for lists:a. Future lists – things you want to do, want to accomplish, things to do tomorrow, things

you expect your future to bring, etc.b. Past lists – earliest memories, regrets, memorable meals, former friends, names from

kindergarten, strange sights you have seen, etc.c. Object lists – things in your room, on your desk, in your pockets, things you have seen in

a shop window, in somebody’s storage box, things you can remember losing, etc.d. Dream lists e. Favorites lists – heroes, foods, clothes, friends, places, etc.f. Dislikes lists – foods, bad habits, chores, classes, times in history, etc. g. Random lists h. Word lists – collect words that appeal to you for some reason. Collect them from

overheard conversations, browsing the internet, your favorite book.i. Sensory lists – things of one color, noisy things, pungent things, tasty things, etc.

2. Select five to six of the most intriguing items from one of these lists. Try to choose items that do not seem related in any other way than by the topic of the list. Work them into a poem that shows some surprising connection.

3. Work into a poem as many items as possible from one of your lists. Let the items determine what the poem is about.

4. Turn a list into a chant by the use of some basic statement or construction, such as “I want,” “I remember,” “The color was red, like…”

5. Write a two-part poem, using two opposed or contrasting lists to make a point.

I’m a rock womanI’m a horse womanI’m a monkey womanI’m a chipmunk womanI’m a mountain womanI’m a blue mountain womanI’m a marsh womanI’m a jungle womanI’m a tundra womanI’m the lady in the lake|I’m the lady in the sand water that cleans flowers that clean water that cleans as I go I’m a bird womanI’m a book womanI’m a devilish clown womanI’m a holy-clown womanI’m a whirling-dervish womanI’m a whirling-foam womanI’m a playful-light womanI’m a tidal-pool womanI’m a fast speaking woman

- from Fast Speaking Woman, Part 1, Anna Waldman

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Observation

Choose some small object or entity for close observation: a stone, a fungus, a wristwatch, an onion, a ladybug, a sewing needle, a drop of pond water or a piece of your own hair as seen under a microscope, an ice cube, etc. Whatever you choose, give it your closest attention. Describe in writing all our sensory impressions of this object, all the details you can muster. You can start with prose or write your observations in loosely broken lines, whichever seems easier.

When you feel that you have a solid foundation of specific, concrete images, the second half of the writing exercise begins: generalize from the things you observe to some meaning drawn from your observations. For example, describe a rock in great detail. Then make a generalization about life, or time, or the human condition, based on that description. Don’t be afraid to overdo it. You can cut back in revision. Finally, experiment with making your prose or poetry rough draft into a polished poem.

Umbrella

I press a button,And this black flowerWith its warped pistilBroods over me,Tears dripping from a dozenSilver stamens.It catches water, this flower,And sheds it,Consents to wilt in a closetLike some wrinkled mournerBetween funerals.

- Duane Ackerson

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Poems of Address

1. Write a poem addressed to another self, your alter ego, or to your image in the mirror, but don’t explain that you are addressing yourself. Let that come out in the poem.

2. Write a poem to an anonymous “you” suggesting some secret connection in a mysterious and unique way.

3. Write a poem addressed to an anonymous “you” evoking a particular mood or emotional state by concrete images. Suggest

a. Loneliness b. Anger c. Guilt d. Hilarity4. Write a poem addressed to some part of your body. Be sure that the poem displays some

consistent attitude or strong feeling.5. Write a poem to an animal or object. Consider whether the tone should be comic,

serious, or something in between.6. Write a letter poem to

a. A friendb. An enemyc. Someone who is deadd. A strangere. A celebrityf. Anyone else you may want to address

A Postcard to Send to Sumer

Something you said – I found it written down –And your picture yesterday, brought back old times.We are here in another country now. It’s hard.(When was it ever different?) The language is odd;We have to grope for words for what we mean.And we hardly ever really feel at homeAs though we might be happier somewhere else.Companion, brother, (this is funny) I lookFor you among the faces as if I might findYou here, or find you somewhere, and problems would thenBe solved. What problems are ever solved?Brother, the stars are almost all the sameAnd in good weathers – here it is summer now –When the airs are kind, it seems the world and weMight last unchanged forever. Brother, I thinkYou would like ti here in spite of everything.I don’t know where to send this to you. PerhapsI’ll be able to find it before the mails have closed.

- William Bronk

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Free Writing

Start in the upper left corner of a page and write without stopping for five minutes. Remember: once you start writing, do not stop. Try to write concretely, sensorially, in images. Do not worry about “making sense,” do not think, pay no attention to grammar, punctuation, etc.

When five minutes are over, stop writing. Do not read what you have written. Put it away.

Do this exercise two more times.

Once you have three free writing pages complete, read through them all and underline anything that seems in any way interesting, fresh, weird, reverberant. Trust your instincts. Some of the material will be strange, scary, truly bizarre. If you have followed the above rules, you will not even remember having written most of it.

Pull out three underlined fragments. Correct spelling, punctuation, etc. The fragments will probably range from single words to word couplings, to images, to passages running three or four lines long.

Use these as notes to a start a poem.

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One’s-Self, En-Masse

One’s-self I sing, a simple separate person,Yet utter the world Democratic, the word En-Masse

- Walt Whitman

With the above in mind, write a description of two or three paragraphs in which you describe one particular member or element of a set:

One sparrow in a flock of sparrowsOne baby in a nursery of babiesOne fish in a barrel of fishOne scream in a stadium of screamsOne Rockette in a chorus line of Rockettes

The challenge is to perceive the qualities of the group, and to distinguish what makes an individual member of that group both a part of it and apart from it.

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Five Pieces

Remember a person you know well or invent a person. Then you are ready for the five pieces.

1. Describe the person’s hands.2. Describe something he or she is doing with the hands.3. Use a metaphor to say something about some exotic place.4. Mention what you would want to ask this person in the context of 2 and 3 above.5. The person looks up or toward you, notices you there, gives an answer that suggests he or

she only gets part of what you asked.

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Finish the Sentence

Fill in the blanks as rapidly as you can. Do not think. Write. If you have no reflex response, go on to the next sentence.

1. A spider on an old man's beard is like _________.

2. The oars on the boat rowed as if _________.

3. Nothing was the same, now that it was _________.

4. The wino took to coma like _________.

5. The dice rolled out of the cup toward Len like _________.

6. A child in _________ is like a _________ in _________.

7. Puffy clouds in your glass of wine are _________.

8. _________ is like muscles stretched taut over bone.

9. The fog plumed through the gunshot holes in the train windows like _________.

10. The gray honor walked up the satin plank like _________.

11. Canceled checks in the abandoned boat seemed _________.

12. If I should wake before I die _________.

13. Alanna poured coffee down her throat as if _________.

14. Up is like down when _________.

15. You mine rocks from a quarry. What you get from a quandary is _________.

16. Marlene dangled the parson from her question as if _________.

17. She held her life in her hands as if _________.

18. "No, no, no, a thousand times no," he said, his hand _________.

19. The solution was hydrochloric acid; the problem was, therefore, _________.

20. Love is to open sky as loathing is to _________.

Reread the sentences you’ve finished, circling a couple you like best. Begin a poem using a simile/metaphor/analogy you’ve written.

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Epigraph

The following is a list of quotations from various pre-Socratic philosophers. Write a poem using one of them as an epigraph.

A. Actions always planned are never completed- Democritus

B. Old men were once young, but it is uncertain if your men will reach old age.- Democritus

C. The path up and down is one and the same.- Heraclitus

D. Nature likes to hide itself.- Heraclitus

E. The world is change; life is opinion.- Democritus

F. Heraclitus said that a man’s character is his fate.- Stabaeus

G. Parmenides speaks of perceiving and thinking as the same thing.- Theophrastus

H. All things were together. Then mind came and arranged them.- Anaxagoras

I. Worlds are altered rather than destroyed.- Democritus

J. Dark and light, bad and good, are not different but on and the same.- Heraclitus

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The Peasant Wedding

Step 1: Consider a painting filled with many characters engaged in a central action, like Bruegel’s “Peasant Wedding.” Think about the focal point and perspective of the work of art, the effect of the setting, colors, shapes, textures, the story that the painting is telling, the relationships of the characters and what affections and tensions are developing.

Step 2: Take the voice of one of the characters in the painting and invent that character’s past, his or her feelings at the present, and possibilities for the future. Tune in to the rhythms and diction of your character’s speech as well as his or her emotional makeup. Ask yourself: Does my character like or dislike anyone else in the room? Why? Why not? If my character could talk directly to that person, what would he or she say? Once you’ve thought about what’s on your character’s mind, write down his or her remarks and shape them into a dramatic monologue or a personal poem.

Self Portrait

In a red winter hat blueeyes smilingjust the head and shoulders

crowded on the canvasarms folded onebig ear the right showing

the face slightly tilteda heavy wool coatwith broad buttons

gathered at the neck revealsa bulbous nosebut the eyes red-rimmed

from over-use he must havedriven them hardbut the delicate wrists

show him to have been aman unused tomanual labor unshaved his

blond beard half trimmedno time for any-thing but his painting

- William Carlos Williams

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The Self

Imagine two or three sides of yourself as distinct characters, each with reasons to be angry at and to love or need the other part(s).Write a poem in sections where each speaks to the other letting tension and resolution provide direction and a sense of discovery. Remember to treat each voice as a character, i.e., to see parts of yourself as distinct characters, which will give you the freedom to invent, exaggerate, and play with material that could otherwise bog down in muddy introspection.

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Cut-and-Shuffle

Write out (in prose or poetry) tow completely unrelated and emotionally opposite six- to ten-line dramatic situations, depicting

1. A physically inactive or quiet scene, and2. A physically active or emotionally charged scene

Then, as one might shuffle the playing cards in a deck, alternate the first line or two from scene 1 with the first line or two from scene 2, then the second line or o from scene 1 with the second line or so from scene 2, and so forth, until all the lines from the two scenes are roughly dovetailed into a single unit.

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Object poem

Choose an ordinary object, such as a door, then make up a list of functions for that object. Try to select functions that lend a symbolic meaning or quality to the object. For example, a door opens, closes, locks, blocks the view, separates inside from outside, etc. When you have created the list, begin the poem with the object and then follow that with a series of functions selected from your original list. Select the functions with an eye toward some larger insight or theme, and structure the poem in the following sequence:

1. Title and subject2. The list of functions, and3. A summary statement

The Door

The door locksThe outside out,The inside in.It divides spaceInto time, the drabPresent from the promiseOf the future. As it opensAnd the darkness pours outAnd the light floods in,Or night pours into darkness –It into youAnd you into it –

It makes you realize there is no reasonFor a door that opened orClosed, absent or present,It is there and not there.

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Blackout Poem

Creating a blackout poem involves steps that are all about deconstruction then reconstruction. Start by choosing a page of text from a book, a magazine, a journal, online, etc.

Now read the page of text in its entirety. Use a bold marker to black out all the words except those that resonate with you. Resonant words might be expressive or evocative, but for whatever reason, these are the words on the page that stick with you. Avoid keeping more than three words in a row. From now on you will only use the words that are not blacked out. From this list, you can write three blackout poems.

Option 1: List all of the remaining words on a separate piece of paper. List the words in the order that they appear on the page of text. You may eliminate parts of words, especially any endings, if it helps to keep the meaning of the poem clear. Insert punctuation and line breaks as you see fit.

Option 2: Rearrange the words and use or skip any to create a new blackout poem. Use only the words from the original page.

Option 3: Use the words from your list as the backbone of your poem, but add any language you like to create a new poem.

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Definition poem

Write a definition poem. A definition poem takes a word or a concept and attempts to define it, provide perspective, redefine it, or create a definitive example of it.

Hospital

A hospital is a white shell on a beachBleached bare and lodged in the sandThe ocean washes over itIt sometimes buries itBut a hospital remains unmoved by thisWhatever changes could occur already haveAny color it might have had has washed awayOr been ground into the sandIt shines in the sun but people walk around itThey sense that they should not touch itThey should not pick it up and add it to their collectionThere is nothing wrong with a hospitalBut it is a shell no one wants to ownThey want to leave it

- John Hewitt

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Dialogue poem

A dialogue poem is a poem composed of a conversation between two fictitious speakers, each of whom expresses a different viewpoint. There is typically no narration or “authorial voice.” Dialogue poems have a long history -- the Roman poet Virgil’s “Eclogues” is an early example of the form, and the debate between the soul and the body was a popular subject for dialogue poems during the Middle Ages.

Different PerspectivesThe advantage of a dialogue poem over single-speaker forms of poetry is its ability to express and explore different viewpoints in a single poem. Choose two speakers who hold different perspectives on an issue, event or topic. You should understand each perspective as fully as possible -- if necessary, research perspectives you are not familiar with. Whether you find yourself agreeing with one perspective more than the other, you should present each of your speakers’ viewpoints accurately.

Tagged Vs. UntaggedDialogue poems can be either tagged or untagged. Tagged dialogue poems identify who is speaking by listing their name, sometimes followed by a colon, before each speaker’s lines. Andrew Marvell’s poem “A Dialogue Between the Soul and the Body” is an example of a tagged dialogue poem. Untagged poems do not directly identify their speakers, but often give some other indication that the speaker has changed -- for example, by a change in typeface. The anonymous Chilean poem “Two Women” is untagged.

Conflict and TensionThe coming together of two different perspectives often generates conflict or tension in a dialogue poem. Even though the issues discussed do not have to be controversial, the reader should wonder how the speakers will resolve their differences. Do not write dialogue in which the speakers simply insult each other or disagree without offering alternatives. Remember that the point of a dialogue poem is to explore different perspectives; the conflict should ultimately be constructive, for the reader if not the speakers.

Voice“Voice” in a dialogue poem refers to how your speakers speak -- particularly their word choices and the rhythms and structures of their sentences. The voice of each of your speakers should be distinct enough that a good reader could tell them apart without needing to be told which speaker is speaking. Consider what a speaker’s voice tells readers about the speaker: a speaker who uses long complex sentences with lots of obscure words might be pompous or a show-off, while a speaker who uses simple, direct sentences with strong verbs might be more down-to-earth.

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Translation

Translate a poem from another language into English.

Here are some general observations on the art of translating poetry:

1. Moving between tongues, translation acquires difference. Because the words and grammar of each language differ from every other language, the transference of a poem from one language to another involves differing sounds and prosody. And because there are no perfect word equivalents between languages, or even within the same language, perfection in translation is inconceivable. A translation is never an exact copy. It is different.

2. A translation is a friendship between poets. There is a mystical union between them based on love and art. As in ordinary religious mysticism, the problem of ineffability exists: how do you find words to say the unsayable? Since a vision cannot be replicated, you seek equivalents for the other.

3. So all literature is translation and all translation is unique and therefore original. Octavio Paz goes so far as to declare, “Every text is unique and, at the same time, is a translation of another text.”

4. The translator poet is a blatant robber but should not kill the other author or steal her very name from her. But if murder and robbery are necessary, be open. Robbery can be an admirable crime. Normally, as with music, the translating artist reads and interprets but does not fully invent the score. Yet if you must kill and rob, if you must transform the past and correct and embellish it for your time, confess and praise your benefactor. Then, when you display your stolen wares, greater praise will await your deeds.

5. The translator is a writer. He has good reason to be inimical to archaisms. He uses a contemporary language but not so fearfully as to eliminate its contemporary scope and living history. Don’t worry that modernity will rub out the past. Old writers will not lose the centuries of their age when heard in modern diction. Readers of the original text read the language of their own time, unless the author, like Spenser, deliberately imitated an archaic mode. If you wish to do that, devise an appropriate speech, forget the epithet writer, good luck, and count on nothing.

6. A translation is an x-ray, not a Xerox. A poet translator is a xenophiliac.

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