When gathering material for last year's literary magazine, I encouraged students not only to search through their best pieces to find good fits for our theme, but also to find inspiration in our section titles to create new pieces. I almost always tell students to title a work well after it is complete, after they know where the idea takes them, but it can also be an interesting exercise to work backwards, from title to substance. The following is one such piece I started then and continue to revisit.
Entrance Heels click against marble floors Pearlescent and pristine Hallowed slabs reverberate hollow snaps Don’t fall - Don’t fall - Don’t fall A staircase spans the length of the room A wide open mouth to swallow or regurgitate Handrails like thick ivy curl, seeking light, strangling Don’t fall - Don’t fall - Don’t fall Take the stairs one at a time, a truncated gait Arms and legs have lost syncopation Branches no longer communicate with the trunk Don’t fall - Don’t fall - Don’t fall Pay attention to your face Soften the grimace, bevel the edges Leech grace from the elegant floors Don’t fall - Don’t fall - Don’t fall Breathe in out in out Climb stairs carved out like notches, like teeth Cling with the toes and amble up and on and up Don’t fall - Don’t fall - Don’t fall Don’t forget who you are Don’t let them tell you why you’re here Don’t drop your gaze or speak from the top of your throat Don’t fall
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I dragged my hands down my cheeks, eyelids pulling down to expose the white of my eyes as empty as my mind. A weary growl escaped my mouth and garnered the attention of a student. I shared my frustration with the utter lack of inspiration I was experiencing. She said, "Write about me!!" I hope she doesn't regret that gleeful cry...
The Young Writer The young writer’s hands hover over the keyboard, twitching slightly in anticipation of the next idea. If you watch carefully enough, you can see the moment the idea lands. The proverbial light bulb illuminating. The pupils enlarge with a sharp intake of breath, the right side of the mouth ascends to an acute angle, and the fingers fly across the keyboard in an attempt to land the elusive idea. The idea, like an insect, dips and thrusts, and the fingers flail about like the disgruntled fast food worker tasked with swatting it. Such furious haste means the backspace is smashed more than any other key, but the idea is caged. The young writer is safe to release a jagged breath, de-escalating to a not-quite reverie. She will not be caught unawares when the next idea comes buzzing. Ah, the perilous "Free Write." Student writers loathe the barbed wire confines of a structured poem, rage against the inspiration vacuum of the prompt, and generally detest guidance. BUT give them an opportunity for freedom and they waffle, cower, and procrastinate. Freedom can be paralyzing. If you don't believe me, Sylvia Plath would like to talk to you about figs...
In the spirit of getting ideas out on paper (or screens), I jotted out the below poem. I've had this idea floating around me for a while. The following is cursory attempt to snatch at it. It's not quite right, but it's something. Now, at least, I know what my idea is not. Dancing is an Old Man's Game Young people dance with their feet planted so firmly on the ground Gyrations or fist pumps, yes But no matter the branches swaying Those roots don’t budge an inch Feet shoulder-width apart As if about to deadlift cold metal So serious and so concerned About their bodies and others’ bodies and what to do with their hands But you don’t dance with your hands Or your arms or even your hips It is your feet that kick-step-kick-step Your thighs that challenge a partner’s space Your calves that thrust you upwards as you push the earth down Old people dance with gliding feet Partners in conversation without moving their mouths Or their hands Or their arms For they know that it’s the feet that do the work Flair is not substance And twerking is not dancing |
AuthorMs. Jopling teaches English at Broadway High School, eats an unseemly amount of cheese, and laughs as often as possible. Archives
November 2017
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