Poetry Notebooks

Eduardo has a post about poet’s notebooks, which is interesting.  I don’t keep a notebook anymore – I largely work on a few sheets of white typing paper I’ll stuff in my pocket if I’m headed out for awhile and want to write/draft a poem.   But in terms of keeping odd facts, ideas for poems, interesting words, good lines from other poems, well, that happens in my head.  I figure if I can’t hold it in my brain, it’s not worth holding onto.  It’s a fairly simple acid test, but one which works I think.  Quite honestly, I think it’s dangerous (for me), perhaps because of latent narcissistic tendencies, to keep a notebook.  I also don’t memorize my own poetry for similar reasons.  I like keeping the composing area of my brain clean. 

The EPG and I have a small poetry challenge going right now that’s based on a title (it’s a kind of interesting title that came up in conversation); we’re both supposed to write a poem using it.  I have a draft typed out as a placeholder, but the initial composition and all subsequent drafting is going on in my head.  So, anyway, this is what is in that “notebook space”.  Although you can’t see them, there are all kinds of private notations about cross-liner themes, sequencing, sonic strings, spelling it out or cutting it back, etc.  There are also a few images that are connected to the poem but are not in it – a snowy field, a woman distractedly putting on lip-gloss.  Part of the private compositional file.

Sex with the Mentally Ill

Her eyes go wide beneath you.
What is it they see?

You are as far apart as two languages.

Is it rational to believe in words? –
that which separates
the kisser and the kissed,
any single human’s definition
of love, loved, be-loved?

As if one could split cleanly, sick
and well, mind and flesh.