Blogger: Cynthia Ruchti
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Or violet.
Whatever.
Whether you ingest poetry through song lyrics or fairytales or children’s books or the Psalms or poetry readings in dimly lit theaters…
And whether poetry is currently “selling” or not (It’s not, in case you wondered)…
Those who write poetry have much to teach the fiction and nonfiction writers of the world.
POETS UNDERSTAND THAT LESS IS OFTEN MORE
Poets are ruthless about trimming away anything that hinders the flow, power, and point of their poetry. A poet often works twice as hard to say what needs to be said in fewer words than if they’d told the story outright as a rambling message. What is left is a concise, potent, meaningful-for-what’s-absent-as-well-as-what’s-there, economy of words with limitless worth. “Like gold to airy thinness beat,” wrote poet John Donne in his 17th century masterpiece “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning.”
Our two souls therefore, which are one,Though I must go, endure not yetA breach, but an expansion,Like gold to airy thinness beat.
That line wrecked me in college. And reset my priorities about relationships and distance and grief.
The “less” in that stanza said “more” than a forty-page treatise on death and dying.
What does that mean for nonfiction and fiction writers, no matter their category or subgenre? Where are you describing a scene that can be illustrated with a word picture instead? Have you cluttered the page with words when more white space would communicate better? Have you said too much, given away what the reader needed to conclude for herself or himself? Have you taken up too much of the reader’s mental margin and left no room for imagination?
POETS CARE ABOUT THE RHYTHM OF WORDS
Even free verse–which at first glance might seem to have no rhythm or rhyme–is written with an understanding of the musicality of words strung together in a particular order and pace. The poet might choose the word elegant rather than pretty because elegant has three syllables and rests differently on the reader’s or listener’s ear.
A POET IS SELECTIVE ABOUT WORD CHOICES
Consider this spoken word style of poetry by a little known poet, describing scenes in the life of Joseph, the Dreamer, from the Old Testament:
And so the dream ended, underground
Before it had begun
In a pit so deep and death-dank dark
The sky above, a handbreadth,
A pinpoint of hope, the sun.
Love threw me here
tossed me here
pushed me here
That thing called love
That smells like
Tastes like
Reeks like
My brothers’ armpits
The stench of their disgust for me
The bile and rank of jealousy
Anger? Too much energy
I saved my strength for pain, its drain
Consuming, clawing, ripping,
Tearing at sloped walls
With no hand holds
With no way out
No climbing gear
To bridge the fear
That gaped and scraped my fingers raw
That, silence-laced, convinced me now
They’d turned and walked away from me
I’ll die in here, in hurt’s vile pit
I’ll die from knowing that they knew
And left me anyway.
The sky, plate-wide and miles above me,
Mocked the crumble, the dust of me
It spoke. Hope spoke. A sky of voices
“Anyone there, in hurt’s latrine?”
Not my brothers. Not their voices,
Echoed down the slick-sloped walls
No “I’m sorry” reached that low
Remorse, regret, “can’t you take a joke?”–
None filtered through to where I labored
To breathe
To breathe through the unforgiveness
Of a coatless night
In a lightless pit
Shadowed with a sleepless dream.
And now, they stand before me
These men, these men, these men
Stand there, blank-faced, unaware
That despite their best efforts, I lived.
Lived through humiliation
exasperation
infestation
heart starvation
deeper than the pangs that roil through their ignorant bellies.
“Help us,” they beg, the beggars, as if calling up
from the floor of an inescapable pit
Calling to me as if unaware
how inappropriate
to appropriate
what they need
without the password,
“forgiveness.”
They didn’t even know to ask for it.
And neither did I
In that black, dank pit where abandonment sliced me open
Laid me bare
Where rejection bled me out like leeches
And all I could see was a circle of sky
A pinpoint of Hope
And dawn, then dusk, then dark, then dawn
Showed in that circle of sky.
A promise of unending faithfulness
From a God who tucked me in a prison
He could use as a classroom
To feed my dreams and teach me how to forgive.
So these men, these men, my brothers
Could eat
Because
I
forgave
them.
© 2014 Cynthia Ruchti
Note how the word choices serve as introduction, literary paint, and punctuation. Though of necessity different in nonfiction’s or fiction’s narrative, how would precise word choices improve the impact of the message of your project? Take one sentence or one paragraph and put it to the rhythm and word choice test. Is there another option that could make the sentence sing? Or rather, resonate?
POETS DON’T NEED SWORDS TO PIERCE HEARTS
Poetry penetrates our defenses, often piercing the soul and engaging a reader’s or listener’s emotions. If we pay attention to its methods, poetry can teach us how to do the same in fiction or nonfiction.
As you study other authors who write books like those you write, also consider studying high-impact poetry. What does the poet know that can deepen the impact of your work?
You Should Write a Book!
Poetry was not my choice,
but ’twas not held in contempt;
I far preferred proses’ voice,
and made not the attempt.
But there is no mercy
in time and tides’ assault.
Pain bade tongue desert me
with a bar too high to vault.
To Tennyson I threw my hope
and to the Bard my pride.
At the end of writers’ rope,
I knew not what would betide.
In this hard master’d discipline
I find that I may yet go on.
If anyone’s interested in the mechanics, I’ve written about 58,000 words’ worth of Shakespearean sonnets since the beginning of 2019. Whether the results have been worthwile I must leave to the judgement of others, but for better or worse, this is gonna be my legacy, as you can’t beat two cancers forever. I know; I’ve tried.
– Using a strict rhyme-scheme, meter, and length in which to contain a theme is a vital discipline.
– The vast majorityof my sonnets were written as comments to others’ blog posts, which set the theme; this is not an exploration of my own feelings (and maybe I can get a gig writing commerical jingles, a la Barry Manilow???).
– A decent vocabulary and the willingness to use online thesaurai and rhyming dictionaries is a prerequisite.
– Rhyme scheme can be ‘pushed; note the last two lines of the sonnet above. Meter is much, much more strict.
I don’t really know why I bother, except that it’s a challenge, and in the absence of the energy and hope that I might write a meaningful novel, poetry provides a kind of ‘short-form’ satisfaction, that my words can still mean something to someone.
Pursuant to the above, the poem I posted was written specifically as a comment to this blog post, and was written under a de facto time linit; it was finished within ten minutes.
The reason is timeliness; I’m using the Barry Manilow Jingle paradigm, and getting my work up and read by the greatest number of potential clients is the key to success. The work has to be good and catchy, not artistically perfect. In moern parlance, it’s click-bait.
If you’re saying “Whoa, this dude is an IDIOT!”…well, yeah. Won’t deny that one. But for me, the time vs. quality calculus does set a kind of ‘professional’ goal that keeps up the illusion that I am still a ‘writer’.
The fact that you’re a writer is no illusion, Andrew. You have such a way with words!
Andrew, you are not an “idiot” and it’s no illusion that you are most definitely a writer. Your poetry inspires me. I mean no offense to the great folks at Books & Such, but I’ve been finding myself looking forward to your responses more than the original blog posts.
Sometimes, Andrew, the pursuit of perfection imprisons the thoughts. Kudos to you for your “good and catchy” successes. I’ve read a significant percentage of your 58,000 words, and I’m grateful some have graced my blog.
You are a writer, Andrew. And a good one. I’m proud to know you through these blog posts. Looking forward to meeting you in person across the river. Grace, peace, and love, my brother.
Beautiful, Andrew. Thank you for your gift to readers here.
First of all, Cynthia, I loved, LOVED your poem about Joseph. He came to life in my mind and heart.
As for taking poetic necessities and applying them in my writing, I need to become more proficient in discovering the best word choice. I know I’m too wordy, and I’m working on that. Your post is filling me with creativity, though, as some ideas for my story came to mind.
Some of Margie Lawson’s teachings on editing touch on the cadence of words. When I get to final edits for my story, I look forward to reading it out loud to hear how it sounds . . . And figuring out what needs to go, or be changed.
Great thoughts, Jeanne.
Yes, Cynthia, less is more. I write to include readers for whom reading does not come easily. I strive to put adult ideas in a child’s reading level. I try to remember that every extra word (and every extra-long word) makes my reader’s job harder.
* Consider Christ’s parables: short, simple stories we remember long after we first read them. Jesus is the Master of short, simple and memorable.
Truth.
One poet to another: yes to all. And yes, especially, to your depiction of Joseph’s agony and final forgiveness–a novel in one page.
I’m sorry you don’t live closer to my coastal town. I’d love to chat of words and images over a glass of tea or a cup of coffee.
Words and images. Favorite topics!
Powerful poem, Cynthia! That last line! This has me thinking about how a good poem invites us on a journey. We don’t know exactly where it’s taking us, but if it feels original, we’re game to go. Perhaps that speaks to our writing in general—using the element of the unexpected in word choice and phrasing to keep readers engaged.
Whether fiction or nonfiction, to invite the reader on a journey–YES!
That poem! Oh, my goodness. I felt Joseph falling into the pit. The dirt. The dank. The devastation. So, so good. Thank you.
Thank you for your kind words!
Ah, C ynthia, what a valuable post! The economy of poetry is one reason I practice the 17 syllable haiku. It helps distill my thoughts. You’ve given us two gorgeous examples of the poet’s craft. Thank you. I hadn’t read the Donne. But having experienced much grief, I know that airy thinness of gold.
Thanks for your comments, Judith.
Such a beautiful poem, Cynthia. I have to admit I was moved to tears when I finished reading it, for your also made me think of our Lord’s sacrifice. His forgiveness. A wonderful example of what a writer can do with words. Will print it out and keep it on the wall of my writing corner – as an inspiration for choosing my words with greater care and as a reminder of the mercy of forgiveness.
Happy to join your writing corner vicariously. Grateful for mercy.
Wow! What an amazing poem. t’s like we’re inside Joseph’s mind.
And that’s the goal for every writer–to draw the reader into the mind of the memoirist, or the characters in a novel, or the historical figure about whom we’re writing, or the subject of the journalism piece. Thank you.
I love that moment in your poem where Joseph realizes that he never considered appologizing to his brothers when he was in the pit either. Wow! So like us. Love it.
Thanks, Kristen. Another interesting commentary on writing to communicate. If the reader says, “So like us,” the writer has noticed the deeper truth behind the story.
What a powerful, powerful poem.
Wow, wow, wow (too many wows….?). This gave me much to dwell on. As I continue to soak this in, the biggest piece I’m thinking about is how studying poetry can enhance our own writing. Especially because we writers do love words, it’s a good reminder to ask for the right ones and leaving room to the reader was a huge nugget for me! Thank you so much. This was a reminder that even the most precious book, the Bible uses these tools. Each and every word has a place and purpose and tasting each word before moving on leaves us (as the readers) with big appetites, wanting more – and having to meditate on it to breathe more life into its meanings.