To dream is to fly

Looking up at the gathering clouds, I see two tiny specks flying so high I can barely see them. I realize they are a pair of hawks riding the air currents in and out of the clouds. They swoop and soar - I can only imagine what the world below must look like as they gain altitude then pause just long enough to turn and dive at breakneck speed back towards the earth. I wonder if these are one of the two pairs of red-tailed hawks that I see (and hear) in the field and woods. As I’m imagining what it must feel like to be so free and powerful, I wonder - how high can a red-tailed hawk fly?

Courtesy of a National Geographic search result, I read that hawk pairs (who mate for life) “fly in large circles and gain altitude before the male plunges into a deep dive and subsequent steep climb back to circling height”. A red-tail can circle at over 5,000 feet and when diving, can reach speeds of 120 mph. Amazing as that is, there are certain kinds of geese that can reach 29,000 feet in flight, but the record’s held by a Ruppell’s Griffon Vulture - an astonishing 37,000 feet! (Unfortunately, I believe the winner met his demise in a jet engine…)

Just by watching the hawks, I shared in their exhilaration - the rush of wind, the feeling of lift from a thermal, the absolute freedom of flight. As artistic people, we dream - it’s critical to our spirit and soul. We know what it feels like to experience that unseen lift of inspiration that can take us to new heights of imagination and productivity. We understand laser focus on a goal, and the feeling of freedom that comes from a burst of creativity that transcends time and place. As artists, we are powerful, especially when we simply let ourselves take creative flight and soar!v.

       Seek wonder. Embrace joy!

Supporting article:

The 10 Highest Flying Birds In The World

OBJECT SPEAK

There is pattern and meaning hidden in the objects in our lives. Yes, of course, the parts and pieces that make up a kitchen are there for a purpose. And we routinely change and arrange our living spaces. When we do that we consider things from functionality to color to fengshui. But decorating your home isn’t what I’m talking about. I’m suggesting that we, as poets, begin to see poetic meaning within the forms surrounding us. That we pay attention to the layers of meaning in the objects we see in our world. That we begin to feel and understand the mists that rise from object landscapes.

 Consider this grouping of objects: the clothes basket, which sits on the chair that has a hat slung over the back. Beyond that, it’s the chair that went with the dining room table you grew up with, so, in essence, the clothes basket holding the objects with which you cover yourself with is perched on the object where your father or uncle or aunt sat for Thanksgiving dinners. And the hat, a black Stetson, came from New Mexico and your blue-eyed grandmother looked stunning wearing it.

 So, the poem from all of this could be something like:

 

            Woven wicker seat holds remnants

            of lives rich as warm Southern gravy

            spreading now into shirts, socks, shorts,

            memories of times spent - threadbare

            now, yet crowned with the glory of heritage

            like a stunning black Stetson showing

            off her turquoise band cinched tight.

 

What just happened here? (Ok, hold on, this exercise does make sense…) I looked at a random collection of objects and opened myself to whatever thoughts occurred to me. I remembered something about form, function, history, and purpose. I then wrote about those affects rather than purely describing a chair, clothes basket, and hat.

Look around and give this approach a try - just be open to what comes to you. Initial thoughts may seem nonsensical, but I bet enough of the “spirit” of these things begins to materialize for you to start writing. The wonderful part of this kind of writing is who knows where it comes from and where this particular way of looking at your world will carry you. Enjoy :-)

POETRY AND SOUND

The cadence of poetry is much like the meter and rhythm of music. Many poetic devices, such as alliteration, where repetition and pattern of sound engage the listener, can be used to enhance an image or mood that you create with your poem. While there are hundreds of books and courses devoted to the concept of sound in poetry, I want to encourage you to learn more by describing some ways that I use sound in my poems.

For starters, consider literally describing sound in your poems. Begin by paying attention to familiar day (and night) sounds. What images and emotions come to mind when you hear car horns and people in a busy intersection, as opposed to wind gathering in the distance, or rain pounding on a tin roof? What happens creatively when you can feel sound, as you do when you hear drumming or the bass pounding of a car radio? Close your eyes and tune into the sounds around you; a creaking floor, warm air forced through a heater vent, a squawking jay, or the hoot of an owl.

This January, an unusually heavy snow brought me the sound of winter silence. Quiet provides the opportunity to write about its opposite – a burst of doves in a snowy field, for example.

Here’s a quick line incorporating description of sound to prompt emotion:

 

    Metal wheels on track clatter and creak, what was comfort in childhood

       vanishes as the train disappears into rain and darkness...

 

How many ways can you interpret that line? A last good-bye? Impending tragedy?

Back for a moment to music and poetry. Rhythm and rhyme in verse stretches from “roses are red” to Slam and Performance Poetry (Katie Makkai, Joshua Bennett) to Shakespeare’s sonnets and the poetry of E.E. Cummings. For now, try to ensure your reader feels the rhythm of your words. Explore different poetry forms that serve to enhance rhythm and sound. Here’s an example from a pantoum I wrote about hurricane Ophelia. These lines both literally describe sound and in the context of the form build momentum, suspense, and power:

 

    “Gulls, crabs, and people go to hiding places, wind that once walked in breaks down doors,

         cap and show mix in with planks and plastic, waves pound in carried by the storm...”

 

I’ll close with an important note – read your poem drafts aloud. Do this so you can hear what your poem sounds like. I’m betting on a first reading you’ll hear awkward phrases and find better wording. Reading your poetry aloud is one of the best ways to ensure you lift and carry the reader along with the sound of your words.

Be sure and check out this month’s “You Might Like...” as I’ve included links to more information on poetry and sound.

 

Happy (creative!) New Year!