12 Jan 2022

A Note to Poets

by | posted in: Poetry, Writer's Craft | 6

[Editor’s note: The following poem provides poets – and other writers, too – with a few tongue-in-cheek moments of levity. And truth.]

The length of your poem might need adjustment …

 

Once upon a time,

poems carried the sum of human knowledge

recited ’round the hearth

memorized for generations

passed to posterity

 

but today

if your poem runs longer than

time required to sing “The City of New Orleans”

or “God bless America” or “American Pie”

or “Buddy, Can You Spare a Dime,”

try to separate your inspired epic into several shorter poems.

 

Oh, sure … paint images, illuminate characters,

say things you need to say

delineate an issue

or evoke emotions

but stay within the time constraints of the medium

and expectations of your intended audience.

 

Cut to the chase

then

simply

stop.

 

[Illustration from Adobe Stock]
Follow Arthur Crummer:
Arthur Crummer, past president of Writers Alliance, is a musician, poet, and novelist. He earned a BSME and a PhD in mathematics to support those habits, has produced instructional booklets and music CD’s, and has written numerous original songs. He teaches guitar and Dobro, and writes poetry and creative memoir. His current fiction secretly reflects his interest in the existence and nature of time, the brain’s evolution, psychological complexity, agency, karma, external redemption, and causality. He is author of the novel Wrestling God.
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6 Responses

  1. Marie Q. Rogers
    |

    Love it!

  2. Jill Clark
    |

    Caught it all A. Crummer! Thank you.

  3. S. Page
    |

    A Cup of Tea

    Inquiry into the nature of time,
    whether it is natural or not
    seems inescapable,
    as if we are subjects
    until we are subjective
    to the run and pause.

    Time slows as we home in
    for the best word, the clearest meaning,
    and flies as we lose the day of the week
    Saturday again already?

    The soul of brevity is occasional,
    sprinkled like gold flakes
    in stream-side sand.

    Added up it means so much
    until forgetfulness
    makes us new
    to this day.

    No wonder Jacob and his men
    are still wrestling with God.
    Sometimes they get the upper hand
    until it is again evening and
    Saturday is on its way.

    Others, those Mothers,
    who stand in the doorway
    of time, who bring bouquets
    in from the small parcel of garden
    still left to their exiled minds,

    Would rather steep deep herbs
    while God, across the kitchen table
    would sip a cup,
    Eyes over the rim so meaningful,
    large, and consummate.

  4. Bonnie Ogle
    |

    Lovely!

  5. Art
    |

    Thank you for this fine cup of reflection, pensive dark and light.

  6. JN Fishhawk
    |

    Just now seeing this. I think we need to have you come back to the CMC Poetry Jam and read this one for us, Art! 😉

    I think it fits perfectly within our guidelines for brevity/not being a time-hog on the microphone/stage when participating in an open mic type setting.

    But, unfortunately for the long-form and epic poetry writers among us, it probably applies almost equally to what we put on the page, these days.