Welcome to Poetry Friday!
Poetry Peeps! You’re invited to our challenge for the month of October! Here’s the scoop: As invited by Poetry Magazine, we’re composing burning haibun. Not regular old haibun, folks. These highlight the internal landscape of memory, and within them, something somewhere must BURN. Perhaps it’s your candle at both ends. The stub of wax in your jack-o-lantern. Perhaps it’s just your heartburn, or your indignation. We cannot wait to find out. As always, these poems will continue our theme of writing in conversation. Are you still in? You’ll have a month to craft your creation(s), then share your offering on OCTOBER 31st in a post and/or on social media with the tag #PoetryPals. THIS is gonna be LIT (see what I did there?), so we hope you’ll join the fun!
Greetings, friends, and a glorious decorative gourd season to all. I have a bale of hay in the garage, and feel I am getting right into the spirit of things (technically, the bale of hay is for the Boy’s archery targets, and then the garden, but I can pretend it’s for autumn, yes? Yes).
Science – and my very own science experiment autoimmune disorder – has recently introduced me to the joys of descriptive disorder names. Had you ever heard of Multiple Evanescent White Dot Syndrome? Well, neither had I – but what a delightfully graphical designation. Joining such monikers as Alien Hand and Restless Leg syndromes, MEWDS rather less delightfully is an inflammation of the optic nerve and can temporarily occlude one’s sight in the eye affected. That is far less than fun, but *hand waves* details, right? At least it has a fun name.
It you may have guessed, it’s been A Month around here. And if you’ve also guessed that I have yet again missed the Poetry Sisters meet-up to discuss and strategize our monthly form experiment, you’d be right. Which was disappointing. I wanted to talk about this form. The tritina has such potential. I love Tamar Yoseloff’s description of it as the sestina’s square root, and an “instrument of discovery.” The repetition is intended to pull something out of the poet, to hold it up, and allow examination from all sides.
From Process…
I was aware that the villanelle and the sestina, the more familiar repetitious poetry forms, were written to be accompanied by music – thus the repeating refrains. I don’t think I really leaned in to the musical aspect of this as much as I wanted to – let’s blame my foggy brain, shall we? – but I had a song stuck in my head when I wrote it. Billy Joel’s 1989 classic, And So It Goes. To put me in the correct frame of mind (and because I can’t listen to actual music when I work), I read the lyrics before I began.
It’s such a… resigned song. It offers the listener an unvarnished self, all poor decisions and untethered past presented with open hands. Here I am, the song seems to say. “All this could be yours – bad gambles and all. I find it rather charming, if a little sad. Written by a man who stumbled from three marriages into his current fourth, his experiences haven’t seemed to leave him confident that this whole self will be accepted, though offered whole-heart. And… so it goes. Asi es la vida. That’s life.
I brainstormed longhand to arrive at a trio of words which sturdy enough to bear repetition. Originally I believe the Poetry Sisters had thought to use all the same word, but I don’t know if that thought fell apart or not. My words I drew from what was on my mind – what I was feeling about the news, my medical life, my work. The words were… grey-shaded. Exhaustion. Weariness. Depletion. Betrayal. Grief. Carrying. Forfeit. Weight. What on earth could anyone try and ‘discover’ from that?
…To Poetry
Those words felt… disagreeable but when I pulled a few I wanted out of the morass, ‘Undone’ and ‘Diminished’ spoke to me… Remember I said that villanelle and sestina were originally composed for music? These two words are musical. There’s a thing called a “diminished chord.” It’s described as sounding tense, unstable, and dissonant, often “spooky,” “sinister,” or “eerie.” What if instead of simply disagreeable and bad, something undone is diminished because it’s unresolved? So… here’s my beginning at playing with that thought. Note that this is the DRAFTIEST of drafts – I feel like “in conversation” vanished from this entirely – yet I like the feel and the wordplay of it, trying to wrest music from madness, and a note of triumph from an unfinished chord of defeat.
it weighs on me: what lies undone
in creased and wrinkled brain diminished?
No laurels wreath the unresolved.
Opaqued, the path lies unresolved.
Roads untaken drift, and, undone
shrink; a destiny diminished.
Atlases: obscured. Undiminished:
thirst for adventure. Re-resolved:
To leap. Not done can’t be undone.
Past comes undone: presently diminished lies our future, unresolved…
And so it goes.
This felt like it ought to have the title at the end, to add weight to the envoi. All of the uncertainty and ambiguity, holding up an idea, twisting and turning it, examining it in the light. Despite the desire for different, in some parts of our lives, we’ve lost our maps, we’re drifting, and we’re looking ahead at a future that seems… diminished. Distorted. But if we want a different present, we’ll have to tell ourselves a new story, to enact a future that is different from our past.
And so it goes. That’s just life.
Part of “just life” is also having a poem you’re not sure you like, which seems to be afflicting all of the Poetry Sisters this month. Nevertheless, Tricia’s take on the tritana can be found here. Cousin Mary Lee’s poem is here. Liz’s poem is here, and Laura’s tritina is hitting next month’s theme early here. Karen’s poem is here, and Michelle K’s art and tritina are here. Carol V’s poem is here. More Poetry Peeps may post throughout the day, so make sure you circle back at some point this weekend and find the links here.
Poetry Friday today is hosted at the delightful Poem Farm of Amy Ludwig VanDerwater. Thanks, Amy. It’s been a long, strange trip this month, but as always, there’s life on the other side of your screen. Please go outside. Don’t forget to appreciate the things that you have – beauty and peace, the signs of the changing season, favorite foods, decorative gourds. Touch grass. Hydrate. Reach out to friends. And remember, you are well-loved.
MEWDS!?!?! Come on!! Who comes up with this crummy stuff???? I’m sorry you’ve been suffering so.
DANG, though, friend. It did not stop you. Your end words were ambitious and worked so so well. And I love the ending — Not done can’t be undone. Bestill my heart.
Ugh on the MEWDS! I’m so tired of autoimmune struggles, for you, for my family, for too many people. (It feels like everyone sometimes.) It makes me want to come over and give you a hug and have a cup of coffee with you. (Well, maybe tea, because it’s more autoimmune friendly, or chicory coffee?) We could sit on the haybale.
Anyway, you took your broken heart and turned it into art, as Carrie Fisher used to say. Your opening line just about left me undone. And “A destiny diminished”? Ooof! Then the ending, kicking me in the pants, and into gear:
“Re-resolved:
To leap. Not done can’t be undone”
Wow. Loving that.
Kurt Vonnegut faced the absurdity and said it, too: “So it goes.” Life goes on, because it has to. xo
Ugh. So sorry about the prettily-named ways your body is attacking itself. And yet you carry on with your usual unusual brilliance. This poem feels like a labyrinth to me: all the possibilities ahead, all the unchosen choices behind, and through it all, one step in front of the other (sometimes bare-footed on the dewy grass).
I love the opening lines of your tritina, Tanita. It reminds me of the many things I have yet to do, and I always feel as if time is whisking away. I hope your health problems improve. Take good care.
Ah Tanita, what a month full of unwanted news, sending you oodles of hugs for support and rays of sunlight to lift your spirit, and add to that wonderful garden of yours both metaphorical and physical. Now your poem, it’s beautifully painful and expressive, especially the opening and closing lines. Thanks, I’ll always be all ears for what drips from your pen, xox
Whoa. You HAVE had a month. Isn’t it amazing how so many little things in our bodies are so important? We learn this when they get stressed out or age. I have endless appreciation for the curious medical professionals who keep pushing for answers to their questions that help the rest of us live. I’m sorry you have MEDWS to deal with. It’s something that not only do you deal with, but you’ll have to explain over and over. Yuck. ‘And so it goes’ ends your poem perfectly.
Thanks for that tip!
My first concert and one of my all-time favs as well.
What a thoughtful, fulsome, personal post, Tanita – thank you for stretching my mind! And thanks for the invitation/links. I clicked over to the “burning haibun” prompt, but must say, though I LOVE found/blackout poetry and all-things-haiku, I don’t think I’ll attempt that level of integration. Still working on traditional haibun in my corner (though one I wrote a while back and do pretty much like features burning leaves – ha!). Best wishes as you navigate the MEWDS – had not heard of that. Your outlook & sense of humor, despite everything, are inspiring. Hugs from here!
I love And So It Goes and a million other Billy Joel songs–just please don’t ever make me listen to Uptown Girl. Other than that, he’s one of my top 5 songwriters of all time. I have on my October list to watch the Billy Joel documentary that Tricia mentioned too :>)
Your poem fits me to a tee. “No laurels wreath the unresolved.” I hate unfinished business, and it goes against my very nature to leave things unresolved. And this set of lines also:
Roads untaken drift, and, undone
shrink; a destiny diminished.
I often think about how when we’re 20, there are a million roads we could take. But we don’t, and the possibilities of them shrink. By the time we’re almost 60, ahem, there is still wonderful life to live, but I have to face the fact that I’m not going to grow up to be a field biologist. Shocking, I know.
And your ending…twice recently, I’ve said, about 2 different situations: We just need to do something. Make a choice. It might turn out to be the wrong choice later on. But all we can do is make the best choice given the info we have right now. I feel like you were inside my heart and brain as you wrote this, Tanita. And boo on your health issues. It sucks when our bodies seem to turn against us. Sending love.
My first concert and one of my all time favs as well.
Tanita, the illustration and the first line, “it weighs on me: what lies undone”, makes me think of my life right now. Being weighed down by what lies undone seems to be the theme of each week. I think I am moving forward and then, need to step back. “Past comes undone: presently diminished lies our future, unresolved…
And so it goes.”- another thought that makes me pause and move on with acceptance. I always am thinking hard when I come to your poem(s) that are so full of the reality of life. Thanks for letting me play with the Poetry Sisters.
This poem and your words around it call me to hope. Thank you. I will be thinking about you and your eyes and wishing you peace and good care around this. The title at the end of your poem is so cool and has me thinking about giving it a whirl sometime. And too…I second that Billy Joel documentary. Fascinating from musical and writing perspectives both. Much love. xo, a.
That first line is so full of truth for me. I appreciate that there are others who feel this way. I love the word re-resolved. It has so much weight to it.
I love that you place And so it goes at the end. It makes all of this feel resolved.
BTW, have you watched the HBO documentary on Billy Joel? (Aptly titled And So it Goes!) I had no idea that the majority of his songs are autobiographical. It’s added a whole new meaning to my listening.
@Tricia: NO! I had no idea. The song FEELS autobiographical – and of all of his songs, that one feels the most like it was merely a poem he noodled out onto the piano. I heard an a cappella women’s chorus sing an arrangement of And So It Goes and it was truly ethereal. It works in so many different ways – as a statement of finality, resignation, fact, bemusement.
Thanks for that tip!