What's the secret to this? I study poetry, both the classics and the new stuff, but have so far been unable to determine the magic ingredient that gives good verse such a strong poetic flavour. I try to copy it - or at least capture the same sound - but my stuff ultimately ends up as transparent, flat and simple. I sometimes get so frustrated by this that I think the answer is to be purposely obtuse, vague... to confuse the reader, for the sake of confusing, but then I feel like a phoney for doing so. I use a thesaurus to find more poetic alternatives to the simple words. I use metaphor and tap into the senses, and yet it still comes up short and always lacks that... something.
You need to dress the part in the mornings. If you might acquire a ruffle or a blouse, at least you should reach that first step I suppose, more flounce in your step, possibly a book on interior design held in your hand, or Oscar of course, not you Oscar, the other Oscar.
A considered answer? I think write the way you think, use 'that' voice, and have confidence that 'someone' will like, enjoy reading that voice. Of course, reach for a thesaurus when you're stuck, but y'know there might be a flint to your perspective or a dryness that people appreciate, elements you weren't even aware of, maybe..?
Ah, the secret. I'll tell you the secret. "Life is like a safe, to which there is a combination. Unfortunately, the combination is locked up in the safe." Or maybe that's not the secret, after all. But it does share something in common: you create something, not really knowing whether it's good or not. But when that creation sends a spark over to the reader, causing the reader to see something that wasn't seen before, or appreciate something that wasn't appreciated before, then you know you've made the connection that distinguishes good art from bad. You only know this after you create, and display your creation, and hope for the best. Even the best writers don't know when their stuff is good or not. They depend on feedback. Sometimes the feedback on your work comes from yourself, taken at a distance from the moment of creation, after you've had a little perspective. You perceive that the poem missed the mark somehow, but the next question is: how did it miss? How did it fail to say what I wanted it to say? Was what you were saying really worth saying? One artist commented to Kurt Vonnegut, "When I start a painting, I put the first stroke on the canvas. After that, I expect the canvas to do half the work." For writers, the reader is the canvas. A piece of writing is only as good as the reaction it elicits from the reader, who is expected to take the time to absorb the work and see if it resonates. That's the part you can't control, no matter how much you devote to technique. As for obtuseness and vagueness, they only work if they elicit that response. Otherwise, they just frustrate the reader, in my opinion. The poetry that works best for me is the stuff that I understand immediately on some level, but which hints at another level that induces me to read the poem again in order to appreciate that additional meaning. (Sometimes that extra level isn't necessary, if the first level is striking in how it expresses its meaning, and how it makes me think, "Wow, that was the perfect way to say that thing it says; there's no way I could improve on that.") In either case, the poem works because it invites me to invest something of myself in its appreciation. I'll end by saying that I've appreciated the poetry you've posted, and liked a lot of it. I'll second matwoolf's suggestion to find your own voice, and use it to say what you want to say.
I definitely wouldn't try to confuse the reader. Personally I like poems that make me think. I don't want the answers to be right in front of me, but I don't want them to be so vague I can't find them either. There's a balance in there that I like and try to capture in my poems.
Unless your poem was examining the concept of confusion and the lack of logic (like Alice in Wonderland), or the idea of a confused and/or deranged narrator, I can't see any benefit in deliberately confusing your reader. Only a novice confuses vagueness with thoughtfulness and provocation. No - if anything, making someone think is as far away as being vague as you can be, because when you do that, you're making your readers ask a very specific question. That there may be no answer to the question isn't the same as the question being vague. The question actually has to be extremely precise. Vagueness here does you no favours. Another thing is, we often think it is the turn of phrase that's important, when actually, no one sentence usually has that sort of impact. The turn of phrase becomes what it is because of the way you've built it up, the ideas you've presented and how you've presented them. That final phrase - that line of poetry that just sums everything up so perfectly, which is precisely why it is a loaded and beautiful line - that comes at the end. What does that mean? It means it cannot exist without what's come before it. It cannot have the meaning that it has without what's come before it, and without the meaning it's supposed to carry, it becomes just another sentence without poetry at all. So it's really more about how you build things up, how your writing comes together as a whole, more than that one magic line. The magic line doesn't exist. It exists only in context of what's come before it - it is a summary, but it has nothing to summarise if it exists by itself.
This seems to be a popular view, and one I would like to counter, not because I want to argue the point, but because I want to present some poetry as evidence which, at least to me, suggests vagueness and confusion is part of accepted, even celebrated, poetry. I will follow this up later.
I can't find anything as it happens, but I know I've read various published poetry, by established poets, that's left me scratching my head, and some that's even elicited the 'WTF?' response. This is Stephen Fry's take on 'meaning', for what it's worth. I don't really know what he's saying here, though. Is he saying that any poetry you don't understand is bad poetry? Because if he is, he needs to tell this to a very large number of published, even famous poets. And what if the reader is intellectually challenged, and it's simply that which prevents him from understanding?
Fry's being all inclusive and cuddly - or setting up a position to knock it down later on in his book. ... But even reading TS Eliot's The Wasteland the brain seizes up about 3 stanzas in or thereabouts. [just as you think you are clever]. And Milton, supposedly our second greatest writer? How much Milton can we recognise or reference, let alone read? One big problem is the great leap away from classical referencing [& Biblical]. We don't understand the grammar school references of even 100 years ago - to Apollo, Zeus, fables & the gods and such - which to our forbears was easy meat - easy as a Beatles lyric.
I don't write poetry, but as a reader, I think the best poetry uses the fewest possible words. I don't mean that in a sarcastic way. I mean poetry uses the best possible words (not the fanciest or the most obscure, the best) to convey richness and depth. Rhyme and rhythm? Sure, if you like. But that's not what makes poetry. For me, poetry comes when every word performs its job perfectly. And that means you don't need a lot of extra words. Every word you use is needed, and is carefully chosen. It's up to you, I'd say, to decide what job you want the words to perform.
I guess the question is: what's the point? If no one understands what you're writing, why write at all? Isn't writing, at its most basic, a form of communication? You're expressing something - if what you're wanting to express is confusion or the confusion of life or whatever other abstract concept that requires confusion, fair enough. But that's still purpose. Otherwise it's just words. I can literally bang on the keyboard like a monkey and call it a "poem" - and if I did that, I'd say it's an insult. Also I guess, just because you were confused doesn't mean that's what the poet intended In the end, what does it matter? If you enjoy what you write, then great. If people wanna read it, even better. Pretty words will still be pretty. If it makes someone think, though, if it connects with someone on some level, then I feel like your writing has achieved something a little bigger than just looking pretty. Writing has the power to change minds, elicit emotional responses, make someone rethink their position like nothing else can - it brings down their guard and it's the closest you'd get to having someone listen as openly as possible. Seems a shame to waste such power on meaningless words designed to confuse. Like, sure you can - you can do anything - but what's the point?
I think this sums it up, really. Whether the failure to understand a poem is the fault of the poet or the reader, it matters not. The result is still the same, namely the poem hasn't worked for that particular individual.
Nope, at its most basic it's therapy. We write because it feels good for some reason. Some write to communicate their thoughts, because it feels good to know their thoughts are read by somebody else. But others write because they have to get those thoughts out with zero need to communicate with anybody else. Diaries are writing that is not intended as communication. Creating stories can be purely therapeutic, too. The sixth sense? Intuition? Talent? (no offense). I mean, one can learn the mechanics of creative arts but there is no formula to follow. You can practice a lot, which basically is the trial and error route, but there are way too many possible things to try, so there's no guarantee that you'd just stumble upon that awesome result by chance. Luckily, in a lot of cases, your brain will pick it up at some point. If you read loads of good poetic stuff, eventually, one morning you just wake up and notice how your own works sound better. Of course, you can start that practice thing by making a check list of all the ingredients a good "poetic turn of phrase" should have. Write something (I'm doing this for the joke, but let's say we start with "The sun shines") and do the check list: is it figurative? (no. Then change to: "The sun smiles.") Is it flowery? (no. Change to: "The sun's bright smile shines and sparkles" ). Is it beautiful? (no. More change: "The sun's gentle smile shines into my heart") Is it inspirational?(no. Change: "The sun's gentle smile makes my heart shine when the day is dark. ") is it graceful? (no. Change: "The sun smiles gentlily and shines upon my days") Is it symbolic? (no. More change: "The sun's gentle smile shines into the darkest depths of Uranus.") Etc.
Well I shall keep plodding on regardless, hoping this day comes. In truth, that's all the stuff I post here is; practice, and I do feel I am very slowly getting a firmer grasp on the art form.
Just speak from your soul. It sounds cheesy, I know, but your soul has the most poetic voice you'll ever come across. The only thing that will hinder that voice is if you try and cover it with a cheap imitation. It would truly be a shame if you drowned out your voice with some cheap imitation dressed up in the king's robes. Yeah, it'll look nice, but it lacks substance. It's nothing more than a hollow shell with pretty lights glued to the sides! It's a pizza without any tomato sauce! It's completely meaningless! Just write from your soul, and I promise what comes out will be wonderful.
I was reminded of this thread today, when seeing a line from one of Rupert Brooke's poems (it was used as the title from an episode of a comedy show), and how amazing it is that a single line can be so utterly poetic. It's from his The Old Vicarage, Grantchester, and the line - in fact the very last line of the poem - is: And is there honey still for tea? For me this is a quintessentially British turn of phrase, so may be lost on many of you, but I've been trying to analyse just what makes it such a beautiful line (at least to my ears). Is it because I know it's from a poem, and so I'm conditioned to hear the poetic tone? Maybe. One thing I am sure of, however, is the position of the word 'still'. In my neck of the woods, and in normal speech, we would say "Is there still honey for tea?" which from a poetic standpoint kills the line stone dead. This is a great example of what prompted this thread in the first place. It is in the ability to phrase a line so beautifully as this that my skills are left wanting.
Trial and error. Poetry to me is speaking soul things or dream things. It's pushing aside the straightforward statements of you're beautiful and saying things like My love is like a red, red rose. That's like imparting dream imagery into your language. It's implying. It's like a glittering web in which your initial idea spreads out to many other possibilities. It's a word game but it's also rather visual. I found that after I went on a Nabokov kick back in the early 2000's I wrote a dreadful book draft trying to be poetic using a great deal of hyperbole and metaphors that had no great connection to feelings or my characters. I wasn't trying to evoke anything more than pretty language. Later on I realized poetic prose works best when I'm reflecting a tone, a mood, and all my metaphors are essential to the character in question. In my WIP I know that my poetics have to convey certain traits of my character a 14 year old boy, and given his personality, they have to have a bit of comic brashness to them for any of them to ring true. I can't wax poetic about things he wouldn't give two hoots about so I'm finding myself glorying in scabs, skateboards, and squirt guns. Here's some stuff that I found works for me. I use basically ordinary words but I up the game by trying to find new ways to transform their initial status -- take the word cloud. You can pull it down to earth and say -- Jennifer got out the Reddi-whip and added clouds coverage to her breasts. I also like to collect a lot of pictures. Constantly reflecting on visuals knowing that they're trying to stir an emotion within you will do two things -- get you constantly to think visual serves a dual purpose to stir emotions and to build up in your mind a set of symbols and objects that can be switched around easily for more metaphors. And you can customize it based on what you're working on.
