Poetry Friday: More about "Why Dream?"

Perhaps this is cheating, to post a poem that's already been posted once before. But I have a few things to add, so I hope you'll forgive me.

Last week, Jules at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast asked me if I had a new poem I would share with her readers at the end of my interview. How could I say no? I gave her this one:

  
         
        
         Why Dream?

In the morning, the day and I
     lie in each other's arms, naked,

still, and full. We promise each other everything
     and believe--Why dream?

By nightfall, the rough and ugly shift 
     has descended over my shoulders
          to my heels--Why dream?

and my back is pressed against
     the bitter wood of the evening's empty
          frame--Why dream? 

Yet--
     the sky thickens. 
     Each coarse thread is salvaged.

Why another morning?
     Why myself uncovered?
     Why dream?

Why is far from now--
     me, morning, paleness flushing--
          Why dream
          in the arms of the day?


  ---Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)

In our email exchange, I told her this:

Why Dream? is a poem I've been struggling with on and off for years. The dang thing just would not satisfy me. I think the problem was that I was trying to be way too logical about it--you know, lay out an answer: that you dream to make things new each day.

But then I realized that I couldn't say that. There were moments when I said "why dream?" because everything was perfect, so even dreaming couldn't make it better.

And there were moments when I said "why dream?" because everything was so bleak that dreaming seemed of no use at all.

And then there were the moments when I was truly curious to know (scientifically) why we needed to dream and those moments when I needed no such explanation... "why is so far from now"...

So in this version, I'm content to ask the question and let the answer be pursued by the reader.

It's one of the rewards of poetry that you can always put a poem away, and come back to it over and over, and it will offer something new. Lately, I've been working very quickly. My poems rush out of me, and the trick is not to overwork them. But this one, this one for the interview, was a true, slow grower. I think your asking for a poem made it finally straighten up and fly right.

I went back and looked. The initial draft of this poem is from my journal of February 1998. Ten years! What changed? Why was I able to finally finish it?

First, as I told Jules in that email, I quit trying to make it fit into the initial plan I had for it. I loved the first four lines---those didn't change---but at a certain middle point, the poem kept falling apart. No matter how many times I attempted to scale that wall, it couldn't be done. It wasn't until I busted apart my initial assumption---that I had to answer my own question---that I made a breakthrough.

Second, I think poetry enables me to say things that I don't have the language for in prose. By repetition, by rhythm, by multiple meanings (for example: the word "lie"---are the day and I lying to each other, as well as lying with each other?) and by the power of paradox. That last is my favorite. Poetry enables me to say at least two things at once, and possibly a third, as meaning arises from tension between the other two. Perhaps this poem finally worked because I was able to find that conflict, not avoid it.

Finally, audience matters. I finished it because Jules asked for it. Because all of you support me when I put a poem out there. Because I wanted to connect. I do think writing in private is a good thing, and you don't have to share all your work. But having even one listener is motivating. Maybe that makes me a people-pleaser. But I don't think so. My poems aren't complete until they hit a listener's ear.

If you want, you can hear me read the poem at my other blog, A Cast of One. It's in both Quicktime and MP3 formats, so you can choose what works.

Thanks for listening to me. Both in my poems, and here, today. Listening matters. You help me keep asking: Why Dream?

Poetry Friday is hosted today by AmoXcalli.

I still haven't found what I'm searching for....

Remember that series Liz and I did on "The Exercise of Writing"? It has given this blog a new cachet. I'm now found by readers who search on:

"hooter girls in a giant grocery cart"

"aerobic string leotard"

"Push ups are not helping"

I'm sorry about that last one. Perhaps if you tried doing them in a string leotard inside a giant grocery cart?

Is this a fairy tale?

Little Willow sent me some clever questions about Letters From Rapunzel, and graciously waited until I had time to answer them. You can find our conversation here. I want you to go read the whole thing, of course, but first, I need your help. One question she posed was:

When I show customers your book, their reaction to the title and cover art is frequently, "Is this a fairy tale?" Did you have any say in the jacket design?

My answer:

No, I didn’t, and authors rarely do. I like the way Rapunzel is in a fairy tale tower, and yet, her letters are drifting out to a modern neighborhood. But I do think that the cover has been confusing to some. I’d be very interested in hearing what you think the cover should be, in case they decide to change it for the paperback version.

Little Willow then went on to offer this to me in an email (she said I could share):

I'm seeing two very different things: Either a P.O. Box with the # and the title imprinted (a real photo, not an illustration) or a desktop cluttered with half-written letters (the title and author byline on the top sheet) other items belonging to [Rapunzel,] like her pens and school books, modern-day items.

What do you think? You can leave your comments here, or go visit Little Willow, read the interview, and leave your comments over there.

Thank you, LW!

P.S. This is too good not to share:

Karen Edmisten posted about reading out loud, and how thrilled she is that her daughters are doing it too. And look! Right there at the end of the post:

"Anne is reading a recent favorite -- Sara Lewis Holmes' Letters from Rapunzel -- to a long-distance friend of hers. Over the phone. Because the friend can't find the book at her library."

Is that a good friend or what?