It's interesting to see the evolution of a "poem in one go." Let me give you a glimpse into the process. This was the first draft:
"Sweet Potato Fries"
I've got eyes
for her sweet potato fries!
I've got a nose
for that sweet hot wafting odor of those!
I've got a mouth
for them good ol' down-home classic-style sweet potato fries like they serve down South!
and when she puts them fries in the oven
all I ever do is holler
over and over
"take 'em out!" "take 'em out!"
Because I can't wait to dig right in
I can't wait to feel hot sweet fries warm in my belly
but she will serve no sweet potato fries
before they're sweet potato fried
I decided the 1st draft sucked, so I pretty much replaced it with the second draft. Oh, I should possibly credit the original sources* for some of the raw text elements used as grist for my grinding mill of poetic inspiration. I snatched up those raw materials from hither and thither, and then I cut, snipped, slapped, and collaged the final poem together using nothing but the hard, glistening sheen of my poetic eye, which is very unsparing as poetic eyes go.
The technique employed is what some might call one of those "found poem" deals, where you start with something not poetic at all - but then! - you use those lines, you truncate, you omit, you rearrange until you have something that looks like a poem!
Really though, to make it look like a poem, all you'd really have to do is cut all the lines into arbitrary lengths, and add some interstitial spaces to make it seem pleasingly stanzafied. Maybe sprinkle a few barely-intended rhymes throughout. That's optional - salt to taste.
It's amazing how easy it is! But then, I make it look so easy. That's why I'm so humble, really - because I make it look so easy. If you want to walk around bragging about it, you have to make it look hard.
13 comments:
I'm guessing Shel Silverstein.
NOPE!
Not Shel Silverstein.
I don't know about you, and I don't know about me, but the level that Shel Silverstein operated on is a level that renders him immune to insult from the likes of us.
The man wrote "Sylvia's Mother" for Hook's sake! Shel Silverstein = SOUL INCARNATE.
Soul Incarnate.
Although according to some people, you could say the same about everybody.
He wrote "Sylvia's Mother", man. The dude wrote "Sylvia's Mother".
Please, missus Avery - I just want to tell her goodbye!
Shel also wrote "Cover of the Rolling Stone."
Not to mention "A Boy Named Sue."
I just want to know, is "down south" a euphemism?
I would not say it is a euphemism. I think it's just something people picked up from looking at maps.
Perhaps it's a poetic or metaphorical way of describing the world, as if our maps define its surface (and not the other way 'round).
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