The meaning of Poetry (or any good story)

[Frank]

THE MEANING OF POETRY

Step one - read this poem by former poet laureate of the USA Billy Collins
Introduction to Poetry by Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to water-ski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

Step two - Read my take on this poem

I think that too many people read a poem and right away want to know what it means.
A poem is an experience, a thrill ride at an amusement park, a sensual pleasure like a good cigar or a fine wine. Sip it, taste the flavor and if you don’t like it spit it out. End of story - no need to know “what it means”- FRANK
Now having said that I will present my poem but I will not tell you what it means.

Step three - read my poem and tell me what you think

2 Living breathing Poems by Frank

I have to say I was not thinking
of poetry, but there she was
in the grocery store, discussing produce
prices with her son who was hoping
to survive the ordeal. We passed
each other, she was going one way and I the other
the way was narrow,
so I let her go first,
I extended my arms out
as if holding a door open for her and
strangely enough, she noticed and rewarded me
with a ‘thank you young man’. I especially liked
the way she said young, reminding me
of days long past when I did hold open doors
for older ladies. Some time later, same store, same day,
same two people pass again. We do the same dance,
even though we are now going back the other way,
each of us having reversed our direction,
this time there is only ‘thank you again.’ but I am happy
with that. Her son comes rushing up her, hands in air,
there you are, he tells her (as if she did not know).
He tells her they are done, she says good, can we go get our
food now. He says, yes I think it is ready now.
Now I am in the parking lot, loading my car, I see her again
she is standing in front of the Chinese take-out joint,
looking like she has lost something but I know it is not her sense
she may be silver in hair and slight, but there is still sparklers
lit in those eyes. No, she has lost her son, who stands four car
spaces away loading his or is it hers ? groceries in their car.
Neither can see the other, but I, the poet can see them both.
As the poet, I wonder how this will end, should I interfere,
or leave it to the imagination of the reader ? No, I think the
reader deserves closure and while I am thinking that she discovers
where he is and waves and then goes into the Chinese joint.
I don’t know what happened next as I drove away but you
the reader deserve some sort of an ending so, as I am walking back
from the car to my house, a very young lady rides her training wheel
equipped bike up to me and says “hello.” and I say hello back
and then she says “goodbye.” and rides away.

[Frank]

Angie -
thank you for inspiring me to do this.
I found that I not only was able to do it and make some sense
I was able to inspire myself and write alot of other things too.
Coming Soon.

[Frank]

(minute 1) IT was strange that I would be here
this place at night when I could
be with you at home but
those women sneered at me
when I returned my books three

minute 2) It was strange that you sat
all alone in the room, living
the cat was fed and the there was no cheese left
but still I thought you might stop by
or even ring me an explanation
but silence greets me and my mind
goes on sabbatical

minute three) It was strange that smoke
was on the horizon, getting nearer,
as the child played, never looking up,
but I saw it even as the darkness came
and the mothers started calling

[Ang Monsoon]

i particularly liked the third one - "but i saw it even as the darkness came
and the mothers started calling", its full of suspense! Its amazing how so much story/tension has been set up in so few lines & words. You could used them as the introduction of 3 short stories "if" you wanted to try that...

[Maureen]

Frank, I agree with Angie, I think the third one is incredible. It could stand alone, and/or you could make it longer, and/or use it for the first line of a novel. Love the image of the child playing, "never looking up" and of the mothers calling.

[Frank]

I think that these are too dark.
I did some yesterday that were much better.

Belated thanks to Dan for thinking up this exercise.

[Frank]

Here is something I cooked just now
Inspired by yesterday's day in the sun

Sun ---> 1 minute
It beats down, unrelenting
I find it easier to ignore that way
something always there is taken for granted

Sun --> 2 minutes
like a love affair gone awry
it feel the pain after you are gone
you have left your mark on me
I am burned

Sun ---> 3 minutes
I don’t worship like I used to
I do miss you when you are gone
but never at night

[Ang Monsoon]

liked the 2nd one best, "you have left your mark on me
I am burned". Very concise & blunt, interesting metaphor.

[Frank]

WhaT no HUM
the second one is not a metaphor - I am sunburned !!
But it was fun getting it.

Thank you for your comment, Angie O'poetess

[Frank]

Today is a two minute drill featuring the words "Choices are. . ."

minute zero -
Chances are
the sun will rise tomorrow
the children will go play
someone will give a speech
most will hear it taped
and I will try again to make
sense of it all, weather permitting of course
but you will just be
(2min)

Chances are
the things that come drifting
by your nose daring
you to notice, daring you to grab
or at least make the attempt to.
They are born out of our sight
with only one moment to live.
We are the choosers
(4min)

Chances are
The kind of gifts that can
never be taken back or re-gifted.
We hold them out in the palm of our hand
and you grab them, open them,
like the slips of paper they used to sell
at the carnival, and see if they are winners
(6min)

[Maureen]

Wow. I think these are great, Frank. I especially love the third one. All the socks in my house are now gone.

[Frank]

Call me skeptical Maureen, but I don't believe you wear sox. But I do like your doodles and the doodlesses of your daughter.

Mr. Frank the speechless one

[Maureen]

Oh, believe me, I do wear sox. Not outside in summer, but inside I do, all the time, because my feet get freezing whether it's from the air conditioning in the summer or just the cold of winter. I wear fuzzy socks. And lots of times they don't match. But they keep my feet warm. And now I have to go buy more because they got knocked off!