Writing a Poem | Carlyle R. Phelps

Writing a Poem:

When I set out to write a poem, 
Though I wander, I have an aim.
With labored repetition, I narrow the scope,
To my best approximation of an honest refrain.
I consider the proper accouterments–
I’m not so vulgar as to bare my soul,
Modestly coverin’ those danglin’ participles
With a paper thin, loose verse.
Other bits may be exposed if I’m not nimble with my pen,
So as I conjugate those verbs, I give ‘em the ol’ peek-a-boo,
Then chastely modulate meter to obstruct their view.

When I set out to write a poem,
My feelings rudely interject—
They lie to me so best leave ‘em alone.
Feelings speak in tired axioms—truisms ill-defined—
Either bottled up or overflowing, their ink can’t express an outline—
They’re hot or cold, while I’d rather a temperate path to explore—
They’re heightened, while I’d rather stay grounded on the floor.
For instance–flights of fancy pluck a rose then display it in a vase—
Without roots, in such a thoughtless act, severed from purpose;
Relegated to a decoration—entombed in an entitled cage.
Better to leave the bloom, experience the memory, then express it on a page.

When I set out to write a poem,
Reason and revelation duel–
A rapier-wit parries a sharp truth–
The blow is met two fold, and doubly returned.
Truth defends front and back while pummeling from above and below.
Intellect tries to flourish around the heart of the matter,
Attempting a cut with meaningless blather–
Even a bulwarked bullseye is far too elusive
For a chattering point with little penetration.
Keep the verse short and deadly accurate;
“Brevity is the soul of wit” and The Truth is immaculate.

Keep scope modest;
Keep emotions grounded;
Make Truth an ally;
Then write a poem.

…

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