Cover Poem (Rewrite, New Arrangement)
Often times I’ll see
a poem, or in the case below, one is sent to me, and feel that it needs
updating, or could stand to be altered to fit the conditions of my particular place
and time while yet still addressing the original core intent (or not). It’s
like translation, but more like a cover in music that uses a different
arrangement. I have done this a few times and it can be an organic experience.
That is, you can get a hit from each image and through free association come up
with the image that best fits your experience, something more applicable to
your sense of time and place.
I believe a core
aspect of the organic poetry philosophy is one that connects deeply to place
because if you are not rooted in the place in which you live – knowing the
rivers, the plant species, rhythms of seasons, etc. – what substrate is supporting your practice
you rootless cosmopolitan!?! For more on the poetics of place, the essay by
Andrew Schelling Post-Coyote Poetry is quite
useful. Peter Berg’s notion of Bioregionalism is also of great use.
So, begin with a
poem. If you use one that is by a famous poet, you have the benefit of allusion,
and for those who are familiar with the poem it will add an extra element to
the subtext. For this example, I have chosen a Neruda poem. Here’s the final
version:
Keeping
Quiet - A Callarse
Pablo Nelson
Now we will count to four four
times and feel our breath hold deep.
This once we watch the winter sun
stop above our one last planet
we can speak a silent language
in stillness even the cats can hear.
Un momento eterno, no snow
blowers, no Hawai’in weed
whackers, the SUV’s crunch in foot
deep snow stopped, we watch breath.
The postman takes a moment to forget
about terriers the barista stops the sound
of steaming milk the guitarist looks at years
of blistered fingers, tries to remember lost chords.
Those who would reinvent new forms
of torture, whose romance is the construct
of endless Abu Ghraibs, would feel something
deeper inside than they have felt since age 8,
remember walks with their brother, then
realize what the good gray poet meant by loafing.
This is not the death watch, not
the notion of life’s last call. All
that matters is breath in & out,
the electric surge underneath being of use.
Who called the quorum of the
constantly distracted? I was
not in the hall, but inside in silence
we begin to recognize the systems
and every cell in them having
their own intelligence their own
silent language only a few have
been faithful students of and
we can now begin to try to
understand their reward
as we watch the snowflakes fall or the dance
of rainforest ferns as each random raindrop hits.
2:10P – 12.21.08 Winter
Solstice 08 in MN
Below
you can see the original on the left and the new arrangement is on the right.
Part of the organic method is the notion of keeping the editor mind busy. (He’s
a left-brain phenomenon and just wants to be of use. Assign to him the notion
of keeping track of the line breaks, stanza lengths and other structural
components and he’ll be grateful and won’t mess with your flow. If you see
commentary come up in the poem, you’ll know he’s messing with you.)
And
notice some of the decisions made in the moment of writing. Instead of a delicious moment, I went for an eternal
moment, but thinking that clichéd in ingles, I went for the Spanish version
which is not too far from the ingles, but enough to give the average reader a
slight pause, enough to get them slightly out of their natural rhythm or
perspective.
Instead
of a locomotive, I went for snow blowers and weed whackers. Writing this in
Where
Neruda mentions wars of fire and wars of gas, I went with a more specific
image, that from the recent US administration whose consciousness was literally
medieval given the torture and especially the attempt to revoke habeas corpus,
which goes back to the year 1305.
Two
things are important about this aesthetic shift. The first is that the specific
image, rather than a generality, is preferred. (See the link to Mind Writing
Slogans.) Also, this is the way in which political content can get into the
poem. I believe it a poet’s responsibility to, as Whitman said, “cheer up
slaves and horrify despots.” The lasting legacy of the Bush Administration is a
myriad range of pernicious acts, so it is important to refer to them often and
ensure this stance toward reality and these horrible abuses are never
forgotten.
The
shift toward specifics in my cover version includes specific images that invoke
the notion of quiet, but there may be no more applicable image than that of the
rainforest. A spot in the Olympic Rain Forest was said by one researcher to be
the most quiet spot
on earth.
These
tidbits (and the experience of them) are the kind of things that feed the
poet’s practice and wind up in the poem, as there is no writer’s block, only
periods of incubation. So like American
Sentences, the Cover Poem serves as a good way to keep one’s hand in it.
Jerome Rothenberg’s Lorca Variations
is a brilliant book of poems utilizing a similar process of appropriation and
can be studied for its methods. Several of the aesthetic shifts are related in
the aforementioned Mind Writing Slogans that Allen Ginsberg collected
throughout his writing life.
You
may want to take on a whole book of cover poems, or variations, as Rothenberg
has. Look also at Amalio Madueño’s Kozer
Variations, taking a Cubano’s style and adding a Mexicano/Indio/SouthWest
perspective.
peN
11:58A
– 12.23.08
--------------------------------------
Keeping Quiet - A Callarse
Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.
This one time upon the earth,
let's not speak any language,
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be a delicious moment,
without hurry, without locomotives,
all of us would be together
in a sudden uneasiness.
The fishermen in the cold sea
would do no harm to the whales
and the peasant gathering salt
would look at his torn hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars of gas, wars of fire,
victories without survivors,
would put on clean clothing
and would walk alongside their brothers
in the shade, without doing a thing.
What I want shouldn't be confused
with final inactivity:
life alone is what matters,
I want nothing to do with death.
If we weren't unanimous
about keeping our lives so much in motion,
if we could do nothing for once,
perhaps a great silence would
interrupt this sadness,
this never understanding ourselves
and threatening ourselves with death,
perhaps the earth is teaching us
when everything seems to be dead
and then everything is alive.
Now I will count to twelve
and you keep quiet and I'll go.
--------------------------------------
Keeping Quiet - A Callarse
Pablo Nelson
Now we will count to four
four
times and feel our breath
hold deep.
This once we watch the winter
sun
stop above our one last
planet
we can speak a silent
language
in stillness even the cats
can hear.
Un momento eterno, no snow
blowers, no Hawai’in weed
whackers, the SUV’s crunch in
foot
deep snow stopped, we watch
breath.
The postman takes a moment to
forget
about terriers the barista
stops the sound
of steaming milk the
guitarist looks at years of blistered fingers, tries to remember lost chords.
Those who would reinvent new
forms
of torture, whose romance is
the construct
of endless Abu Ghraibs, would
feel something
deeper inside than they have felt
since age 8,
remember walks with their
brother, then
realize what the good gray
poet meant by loafing.
This is not the death watch,
not
the notion of life’s last
call. All
that matters is breath in
& out,
the electric surge underneath
being of use.
Who called the quorum of the
constantly distracted? I was
not in the hall, but inside
in silence
we begin to recognize the
systems
and every cell in them having
their own intelligence their
own
silent language only a few
have
been faithful students of and
we can now begin to try to
understand their reward
as we watch the snowflakes
fall or the dance
of rainforest ferns as each
random raindrop hits.