Avoiding Revision

poems as twigs & self-trust

Hand drawn wood twigs, wooden sticks, tree branches vector rustic decoration elements by MicroOne from Adobe Stock

i have a bunch of poems that can come together for a chapbook — what look to me like a pile of of twigs, and i think i’m supposed to make them a bouquet? um, no thanks. i don’t think i want to make a bouquet. i need a new metaphor.

maybe my chapbook (any chapbook?) is just that: an invitation to look at some twigs with wonder – each one a string of words growing or fallen from something bigger and firm enough to be held and felt. sometimes, a leaf can grow from the twig, but that’s not the poem; that’s actually the moment someone reads and feels the poem.

i printed the poems a couple of weeks ago and did reread and mark three or four drafts, but i have since left them sitting neglected in a green folder. i do have some valid excuses, but the avoidance is undeniable.

i think returning to the draft of the poem challenges me to believe in the poem once again – and more, to believe in the poem renewed. i don’t have a compass telling me where the poem needs to go because, damn it, i am the compass, and i’m supposed to know enough about poetry to make the poem a good one, a worthy one, a ready one. there it is: another aspect of my life where i lack self-trust. *melting face emoji*

i know i come to revision ready to ask myself a few questions:

• what is this poem doing?

• what work will this poem do out in the world?

• where in the poem is work happening? what will make it more ready?

• why does this poem matter?

that last question might explain most of my avoidance

because here i am dedicating more time to each poem while i question whether poems can do anything for liberation (though i can’t deny the life-changing impact that poems & poets have had on my consciousness, and still i question and struggle through a daily life in which our tax dollars are funding a genocide before our eyes) while i also keep writing poems because i can’t help it. maybe it’s my thing? i definitely work to make it my thing. i love poetry, and don’t we all need a thing? it helps me keep going.

i’m thinking about my whole writing process.

to get to the first draft, i run with a prompt or an idea or even silence and try to free myself. with a willingness to play and a thesaurus nearby, i get to the other side of the foggy unknown and make a poem as best i can. somehow, something comes together as long as i sit through the mix of discomfort & hope and write.

to get to the revised poem, so far it feels like i’m judging myself. when i’m revising, i’m acknowledging that the poem isn’t already in its glorious there. of course it isn’t! that tells me that there’s another kind of freeing myself that needs to happen. i also have to actually value my poems enough to give them quality time and support their process.

turning back to the compass, i also have to value my intuition. i can be so extreme as to want to cite a source for any change i make in a poem. too much!

i can listen to the poem. i can listen to myself. i can turn to texts that guide me. i can get the poem to its glorious there for the little leaf that will grow. maybe more.

that was the pep talk i needed!

with love,

yo