Poem for Poetry Thursday
Happy Poetry Thursday!
I tried something slightly different than the prompt. The word I chose was defenestration, which means "a throwing of something or someone out of a window." I knew what the word meant and have always wanted to use it in a poem. But I checked a few sources and it also means throwing someone out of a political office—that got me thinking of the sad state of politics and our current administration in the U.S.
I think my effort turned out lame—I'm saying that up front. But as an exercise, it made me consider why I don't write overtly political poetry. Sometimes I think I'm not ready to write it, that I won't be able to find the right story to make the words resonate. But I that shouldn’t stop me from trying to write a political poem, right? So I'll have to come back to this one and revise it, maybe working through what it means to defenestrate. (Such a fun word!)
I tried something slightly different than the prompt. The word I chose was defenestration, which means "a throwing of something or someone out of a window." I knew what the word meant and have always wanted to use it in a poem. But I checked a few sources and it also means throwing someone out of a political office—that got me thinking of the sad state of politics and our current administration in the U.S.
I think my effort turned out lame—I'm saying that up front. But as an exercise, it made me consider why I don't write overtly political poetry. Sometimes I think I'm not ready to write it, that I won't be able to find the right story to make the words resonate. But I that shouldn’t stop me from trying to write a political poem, right? So I'll have to come back to this one and revise it, maybe working through what it means to defenestrate. (Such a fun word!)
As tempting as it is to critique my own effort, I'll just step back for now. Know that I'm looking forward to reading everyone else's wonderful words.
Defenestration
Now we can say that
trouble lives with us,
inhabits our space
like fingerprints smudged on a window
although we pretend—when someone notices—
to see through it.
By the time we got around to it,
it was too late anyway
to disavow any knowledge,
but not to late to claim
taking the appropriate and necessary steps.
Who among us
will sift through the glass,
take the broom
and sweep up the mess? Rather,
who wouldn’t try
to stay about the fray?
All of that is shattered
and no one to clean it up.
If it’s about the company we keep
than who holds better court
than misery?
Comments
"If it’s about the company we keep
than who holds better court"
this is a great way to turn that semi-usual phrase into poetry. Nicely done.
When I think about "political poetry" and writing it I often have the same reaction to myself as you had. But what I realize in reading your work is: it is political, already. Not overtly about an office, or person (this poem isn't overt either, BTW) but about the human condition, the social issues that arise because we are simply a bunch of folks living together in a world, trying to stay alive and get by. And I do not mean to minimize your work. I just mean to say: your personal is political. Your work speaks to specific stories, which, when you zoom the lens out on them, grow to mean much larger things than they seem to be about.
(not sure how all that will sound to you, but I'm trying to compliment you....just in case you can't tell!)
I'm just looking at it from the viewpoint of being a good poem, January- it's just what it is and what you are talking about here is important- not necessarily political, just important.
Important things need to be told...
When another's writing captures and holds my attention, as yours has done, then I find it anything but lame.
This piece to me is not overtly political, so I'm free to make my own interpretation. This, to me , is the mark of a "good" poem.
rel
So, there was this band in my hometown when I was in high school. They were great. They were kind of like Nirvana about four years before Nirvana existed. Their name? You guessed it: Defenestration.
Which, according to some French poet, is right. Since a poem is never finished; only abandoned.
I enjoyed the piece, as usual.
*grin*
And I really liked the idea of a poem a day for April (as stated in the column)