What Sparks Poetry is a series of original essays that explores experiences and ideas that spark the writing of new poems. In Language as Form, poets write about poetic language as patterned language—how words as sound, voice, sentence, and song become elements of form. Each Monday's delivery brings you a poem and an excerpt from the essay.
             Up the driveway
                          into the house in one hand she carries

                                                      the fish in its body bag of ice, the thickness

                          of it curled into itself, in the other
                                                                                               she clutches

                                        a handful of a woman's name    say Daisy

             say Scarlett petals        and yellow sassafras, she

                                         cuts the bottom of each green stem
                                                                                                                at an angle. Outside

             the frame of the kitchen window

                                        cicadas discuss the world while the sun
                                                                                                              creeps away—

                                                                                                                                         How does she find

                                                       the music to say today there has been no tragedy—

                            The flowers are safe in their glass house
                                                                                                               necks upright

                                                        then look

                                                                      solitary hiker           black dot on a canvas

                                                                                    an insect treks the expanse of the wooden floor
                                                         hush hush thing

             so confident            it moves

                                                         away from harm—
from the journal GULF COAST
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Cover of the journal, Gulf Coast
What Sparks Poetry:
Niki Herd on Language as Form


"My poems usually take several months, if not years, to write themselves but 'Lyric Sung in Third Person' will only take a few short months. I often think cinematically and the poem's draft is asking me to deviate from the conversational tone of my previous work. It's asking for a reflective and lyrical treatment. Here, I imagine a canvas filled with lineated images and caesuras in my attempt to engage the visual and kinetic energy of the page."
READ THIS WEEK'S ISSUE
Headshot of Shane McCrae
"Shane McCrae: 'They Kidnapped Me to Get Me Away from Blackness'"

"The confidence to make the call was boosted, perhaps, by two influences in McCrae's life at the time: skateboarding and, increasingly, poetry. Both gave him a sense of being in a world of his own, free from the violent influence of his grandparents. Both contained the idea, he says, 'that you can lose yourself. When you're making a poem, even when what you're writing is terrible, or graphically violent, or really sad, or emotionally wrenching – there's almost no subject that's so terrible that you can't feel a joy in writing about it.'"

via THE GUARDIAN
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