On creating poetry in cars
Of late, I've taken to writing poetry in my car. While driving. For those of you who would seek to avoid me while in this process, it's a cornflower blue VW Jetta, and it regularly cruises Rte. 15 between Orono and Blue Hill, Maine. I'm not sure why I've begun doing this, other than the fact that I spend an inordinate amount of time driving each day and have found that if I don't write my snippets of inspiration down immediately, I tend to lose them. It also makes the trip a bit less tiresome. You can only admire so many blueberry barrens and idyllic streams in the Maine woods for so long...
Anyway, sometimes, a thought comes to me from that very scenery--like a recent morning when I watched the moon set in a lilac sky as the sun rose behind me in a blaze of yellow heat. Or the week of nights when the full moon seemed to be chasing me home. Or the spectacular way the full moon formed a spotlight directly down upon huge diamonds of ice as I crossed the Reversing Falls Bridge in Blue Hill. Or the morning when a rime of frost created a monochromatic landscape and when the river heaved itself up in huge slabs of ice that called to mind Civil War tombstones askew. A beautiful red fox darts across the road in Prospect, his bushy red tail streaming out behind him, and I am thrilled by the astonishing site of a coyote frozen in my headlights in a field by the South Blue Hill Community Center. Eiders huddle together against the current of the Reversing Falls. A flock of fifty or more seagulls rises up in panic and breaks into two equal groups of beating wings at the too eager approach of my boxer. And on, and on...
Just to see each of these is a gift. When I can capture them on the back of a bank envelope or a napkin from MacDonald's (I know--a terrible habit), the gift multiplies because sooner or later it finds its way into my poetry.
Today's poem (see previous entry), "Carbon Dreams," was a car poem, as was yesterday's entry, "Slice by Slice." They both came upon me enroute to Blue Hill, and though the "final" version (when is a poem ever final?) often takes an evolving shape from that baptismal moment, there is something very exciting about the way they burst onto my scene.
Now, if I could just figure out how to get the laundry done while locomoting, my life would be perfect...
Anyway, sometimes, a thought comes to me from that very scenery--like a recent morning when I watched the moon set in a lilac sky as the sun rose behind me in a blaze of yellow heat. Or the week of nights when the full moon seemed to be chasing me home. Or the spectacular way the full moon formed a spotlight directly down upon huge diamonds of ice as I crossed the Reversing Falls Bridge in Blue Hill. Or the morning when a rime of frost created a monochromatic landscape and when the river heaved itself up in huge slabs of ice that called to mind Civil War tombstones askew. A beautiful red fox darts across the road in Prospect, his bushy red tail streaming out behind him, and I am thrilled by the astonishing site of a coyote frozen in my headlights in a field by the South Blue Hill Community Center. Eiders huddle together against the current of the Reversing Falls. A flock of fifty or more seagulls rises up in panic and breaks into two equal groups of beating wings at the too eager approach of my boxer. And on, and on...
Just to see each of these is a gift. When I can capture them on the back of a bank envelope or a napkin from MacDonald's (I know--a terrible habit), the gift multiplies because sooner or later it finds its way into my poetry.
Today's poem (see previous entry), "Carbon Dreams," was a car poem, as was yesterday's entry, "Slice by Slice." They both came upon me enroute to Blue Hill, and though the "final" version (when is a poem ever final?) often takes an evolving shape from that baptismal moment, there is something very exciting about the way they burst onto my scene.
Now, if I could just figure out how to get the laundry done while locomoting, my life would be perfect...
posted by Judy at 7:03 PM
1 Comments:
You've been seeking a get rich quick scheme for a while now Judy. I think you've hit upon one! Clean laundry as a result of driving a car...hmmm...maybe an internal washing machine? Not only would that mean portable perpetually clean clothes, but what if you engineered the car to recycle the energy to do so, a la hybrid style?! Save the world, stop global warming, get to work on time, AND get the laundry done! All in one fell swoop!
Genius.
Post a Comment
<< Home