Does it begin with a memory? A message? A line you’ve been saving in your back pocket? Is it always spontaneous or can it be preplanned, outlined like a story or an essay? I’m curious as to how everyone approaches the sometimes daunting task of writing a poem. There’s so much possibility, so much freedom in the realm of poetry that oftentimes I find myself at a loss on where to begin. What is the creative process to conception? Is muse/inspiration necessary for that conception?
—Haeun
Hi Hauen,
To me it seems poems spawn spontaneously. It is hard for me to force one out, rather I need inspiration to make it come alive. Luckily, I can find inspiration in a lot of different things. The ground, sky, sounds, feelings, light, looks. The list is only limited by your senses. I think the conception is the most important part of the creative process. The ability to create and conceive ingenious ideas is what defines a creative’s motor so to speak. It is what gets them going.
Hi Haeun,
Thanks for the question. When I was reading through your question, I found myself thinking, “all of the above!” What is so wonderful about poetry is its lack of rules. I personally have begun poems from memories, messages, and saved lines. In my personal experience however, I have always had trouble with outlining a poem like a story or an essay. This may definitely be a strategy for other poets in starting their writing, it just is not one that works for me. I even struggled with writing the poem for this class because I felt pressured to finish it by a specific deadline. I am not good at simply sitting down and grinding out a poem, rather, I like to have flashes of inspiration. In order to become inspired, I had to walk around in my neighborhood and local community garden, wrote down some lines that popped into my head, then connected those lines to my own experiences or emotions that I have felt/am feeling right now. Just like Maia shared, I also want to train the creative side of my mind to have these flashes of inspiration more regularly. Famous poets like Emily Dickinson could write profusely about faraway places and the outdoors, all while staying inside. Hopefully this unit will start pushing me to find sources of inspiration within, rather than having to go outside and seek it.
Hi Haeun,
I love this question!
Estelle, I’ve also been thinking about these flashes of inspiration. I’ll go months and months without a single one and then all of a sudden they all hit me at once. One thing I’ve found that helps is listening to music. Specifically, music with very interesting lyrics in terms of the way the songwriter describes feelings without cliches and instead with fresh analogies and phrases. Recently I’ve been listening a lot to Orla Gartland and I’ve found that while listening to her songs I’ve been getting lots of little flashes of single lines and new ways of describing things completely unrelated to what she was singing and not at all using the same words or phrases she used but that were equally unique and inspiring. I’ve been writing these down immediately in the Notes app on my computer/phone and perusing through them when I feel like writing something but don’t really have any concrete ideas. These little snippets of writing help me springboard into a new piece. It might not be Orla Gartland for you, but find new artists you haven’t listened to before who have unique lyrics and melodies and listen to them without focusing too hard on them/while doing something else – that might help the flashes of inspiration begin happening more frequently. Hope it helps!
Hi Haeun,
I can only speak to my own process of writing, of course. For me, I’ll get unprompted flashes of an image or a conversation I’ve had or even a single word that just feels weighty and important. Often, this happens in the middle of a regular day or when I’m trying to fall asleep, so if I don’t jot these little details down within a few minutes they’re gone forever. But I love this immediacy and messiness of writing poetry. It all has to happen at once for me, or, if not “all of it,” then at least enough to get a first draft or a few lines down. (Then, I can come back later and hopefully recall enough of that powerful moment to revise/refine.)
Obviously, when these kinds of spontaneous flickers of ideas don’t come up, I feel lost and unguided. Recently, I’ve been playing with how to make these mini revelations more consistent–how can inspiration be practiced, cultivated, honed instead of being a one-off, out of the blue experience? I think it has to do with saying yes to my impulses, delaying the intervention of judgment and analysis, and actually just trusting the desire to grab a pen, write down a stupid couple of words and seeing what happens. This scares me, by the way, and is much easier said than done. It’s fascinating when I look back at old journals and notice similar words and subjects cropping up, though. I think my subconscious has been telling me to write about certain things for a long time, and I just need to figure out how to listen.
Hi Maia,
That’s an interesting point about inspiration. I’ve felt the same about the immediacy of inspiration flashes for most of my life but recently started coming back to little scraps of ideas that I’ve written years ago and found that they tend to inspire me all over again, but in new ways. Those words may not mean the same to me now as they did to me seven years ago or even just one month ago, but they mean something completely different and I often find that I am inspired to take those words and run with them, even if it is in a completely new direction from that which I originally intended. I do love the messy immediacy of poetry however and think you captured that perfectly; that’s why I tend to choose not to revise my poetry even if I can later see it needs some serious help.