You Don't Have to Be A Poet to Write Poetry
Diana M. Raab -- July 30, 2008
Really. You don't. And I will tell you why. The first poem I wrote as an adult was about ten years ago. I was living in Orlando and getting ready to meet a friend for coffee to discuss a writing project. We were to meet on Park Avenue in Winter Park which is situated in the suburbs of Orlando and a good place to be seen and heard. It's a fun four-block stretch of shops and eateries. Somewhere in the middle of the strip is a popular chain coffee shop called 'Barnie's'. My writing studio was located on the floor above, so this was a convenient place to meet, as I tried to use my studio only for writing. Barnie's prepared fabulous coffee and their major competition up the street was Starbucks who they claimed over-roasted their coffee creating a strong aroma to lure in patrons.
Barnie's coffee shop was small and quaint with only two tables inside, a good selection of coffee, tea and mugs and a beautiful courtyard outside with with a water fountain in its center.
The month was December and the street was laden with shoppers picking up last minute holiday gifts. Luckily, just in front of Barnie's, on the two-lane road, there was one parking spot, with just enough space to accommodate my small sports car.
I maneuvered my vehicle into the parallel-parking position by lining it up with the car in front. The maneuver was done with the same kind of finesse taught by my father some thirty years earlier. My father taught me how to park in New York City; he was a veteran parker who took the task quite seriously. Unlike most family members, he was the best driving and parallel parking instructor I ever had.
So there I was on Park Avenue, minding my own business and just thinking about parking and meeting my writing colleague. Before long, out of my peripheral vision I spotted two elderly and probably retired gentlemen standing on the sidewalk at each end of my car. They smiled and stared at my wheels intently watching where they'd go. I tried to ignore them, as they desperately (perhaps out of boredom) wanted to guide me into the spot. They obviously had no idea that I was born and raised in New York and if I couldn't handle parallel parking something was amiss!
I found it intriguing, yet bothersome, how they chose to make a hobby out of observing my endeavor. My intention was not to give them the pleasure of being able watching me for too long. I parked my car, grabbed my keys and journal and proceeded into the coffee shop across the street to wait for my friend. I sat there for a few moments shaking my head and reflecting about the recent incident. I thought about how I must not be the only woman moved by such a scenario. Suddenly, I felt compelled to write about it. I had never written a poem before, but after putting my pen to paper, a poem poured out of me. I suppose that I intuitively realized that the details of the incident were important to me, not in the form of a prose piece, which is all I had written until then.
The following Friday evening, I presented the poem to my writing group and received roars of laughter. I was delighted that the first poem I'd written since high school English class resonated with so many people. The group suggested I send it in for publication and lo and behold, months later it appeared in a reputable literary magazine.
Here it is in its original version:
Park Avenue
Why is it that men
always watch me park
as if they want to run over
and say 'lady look what you did'
thinking I'd crash, but never have.
My dad taught me to park
tightly in New York
and I'm good, but those guys
want to say 'just like a woman driver.'
Then I yell out 'damn it don't stare'
you asshole, you get me nervous,
do something productive with your time,
plus why are you sitting on the park benches
facing the street in front of my office
as your older wives shop in the stores
buying nothing, yet trying on things
which rarely fit like years ago.
They are my age now and looking back
at the styles and memories
which are now history
but like fire hydrants
pop up again randomly
when we least expect it.
Now seven years after this incident I have found writing poetry to be one of my favorite genres, not only for short takes, but just a way to express myself in a way that no other genre permits. When I am stumped or have difficulty finding focus for a project, I simply write in the poetic form and this seemingly simple tasks nudges me along. For the most part, writing poetry increases your awareness. Did you ever notice that poets are very observant? Well they have to be.
Poet Ted Kooser says, all writing begins with your five senses. Virginia Woolf, although she did not call herself a poet was a writer who often wrote prose poetry. In "A Letter to a Young Poet," she suggests that poets reconnect to their bodies and to the world around them. For many poets, this is a natural thing to do. In doing so, the poet's work has more of a chance to connect with others.
So my suggestion to writers and my students is to follow your passion and my model. I have already published one chapbook and my first full collection, Dear Anais: My Life in Poems for You, is forthcoming this Fall by Plain View Press.
The best thing to do is to go with the flow and always carry your journal with you. You never know what worlds it will transpose you into. It could lead you into experimenting with a new genre, and better yet, getting published!