Witnessing
I'm trying to gather together enough poems about living here to make a chapbook. I'm short a few. I've been thinking, how can I write more poems of place for the valley? What have I witnessed here, in this land, that makes my experience unique?
I was reading a poem by Robert Pinsky, "The Shirt". Amazing image...
At the Triangle Factory in nineteen-eleven.
One hundred and forty-six died in the flames
On the ninth floor, no hydrants, no fire escapes-
-The witness in a building across the street
Who watched how a young man helped a girl to step
Up to the windowsill, then held her out
Away from the masonry wall and let her drop.
And then another. As if he were helping them up
To enter a streetcar, and not eternity.
That's so powerful. What can I write about here, the valley, that's equally powerful?
Hmm...
I was reading a poem by Robert Pinsky, "The Shirt". Amazing image...
At the Triangle Factory in nineteen-eleven.
One hundred and forty-six died in the flames
On the ninth floor, no hydrants, no fire escapes-
-The witness in a building across the street
Who watched how a young man helped a girl to step
Up to the windowsill, then held her out
Away from the masonry wall and let her drop.
And then another. As if he were helping them up
To enter a streetcar, and not eternity.
That's so powerful. What can I write about here, the valley, that's equally powerful?
Hmm...
Inspirations are sometimes hard to find. But life is out there, you just have to grasp a small element of it and build on that foudation. I sometimes have a particular subject in mind, and just wait for the 'write' phrase or ryhme to evolve, then build the poem around that - this can sometimes take weeks, or days, or even hours. Take care. Bye.
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