English MWP Poetry Assignment

Keys to Writing Compelling Poetry

1. Less is more

2. Writing with Nouns and Verbs (not adjective)

3. Let specifically be your friend

4. Let actions speak for themselves

5. Show, don’t tell.

6. Create a shared experience

Selected Poem #1:

And Still it Comes

By Thomas Lux

like a downhill brakes-burned freight train

full of pig iron ingots, full of lead

life-size statues of Richard Nixon,

like an avalanche of smoke and black fog

lashed by bent pins, the broken-off tips

of switchblade knives, the dust of dried offal,

remorseless, it comes, faster when you turn your back,

faster when you turn to face it,

like a fine rain, then colder showers,

then downpour to razor sleet, then egg-size hail,

fist-size, then jagged

laser, shrapnel hail

thudding and tearing like footsteps

of drunk gods or fathers; it comes

polite, loutish, assured, suave,

breathing through its mouth

(which is a hole eaten by a cave),

it comes like an elephant annoyed,

like a black mamba terrified, it slides

down the valley, grease on grease,

like fire eating birds’ nests,

like fire melting the fuzz

off a baby’s skull, still it comes: mute

and gorging, never

to cease, insatiable, gorging

and mute.

Selected Poem #2

Why I Skip My High School Reunions

By Craig Arnold

Because the geeks and jocks were set in stone,

I, ground between. Because the girls I ate

lunch with are married now, most out of spite

—because the ones I spurned are still alone.

Because I took up smoking at nineteen, late,

and just now quit—because, since then, I’ve grown

into and out of something they’ve never known.

Because at the play, backstage, on opening night

she conjured out of the vast yards of her dress

an avocado and a razorblade,

slit the one open with the other, flayed

the pebbled skin, and offered me a slice

—because I thought that one day I’d say yes,

and I was wrong, and I am still afraid.

Selected Poem #3

What Do Women Want

By Kim Addonizio

I want a red dress.

I want it flimsy and cheap,

I want it too tight, I want to wear it

until someone tears it off me.

I want it sleeveless and backless,

this dress, so no one has to guess

what's underneath. I want to walk down

the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store

with all those keys glittering in the window,

past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old

donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers

slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,

hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.

I want to walk like I'm the only

woman on earth and I can have my pick.

I want that red dress bad.

I want it to confirm

your worst fears about me,

to show you how little I care about you

or anything except what

I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment

from its hanger like I'm choosing a body

to carry me into this world, through

the birth-cries and the love-cries too,

and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,

it'll be the goddamned

dress they bury me in.

Selected Poem #4

My Therapist Wants to Know About My Relationship to Work

By Tiana Clark

I hustle

upstream.

I grasp.

I grind.

I control & panic. Poke

balloons in my chest,

always popping there,

always my thoughts thump,

thump. I snooze—wake & go

boom. All day, like this I short

my breath. I scroll & scroll.

I see what you wrote—I like.

I heart. My thumb, so tired.

My head bent down, but not

in prayer, heavy from the looking.

I see your face, your phone-lit

faces. I tap your food, two times

for more hearts. I retweet.

I email: yes & yes & yes.

Then I cry & need to say: no-no-no.

Why does it take so long to reply?

I FOMO & shout. I read. I never

enough. New book. New post.

New ping. A new tab, then another.

Papers on the floor, scattered & stacked.

So many journals, unbroken white spines,

waiting. Did you hear that new new?

I start to text back. Ellipsis, then I forget.

I balk. I lazy the bed. I wallow when I write.

I truth when I lie. I throw a book

when a poem undoes me. I underline

Clifton: today we are possible. I start

from image. I begin with Phillis Wheatley.

I begin with Phillis Wheatley. I begin

with Phillis Wheatley reaching for coal.

I start with a napkin, receipt, or my hand.

I muscle memory. I stutter the page. I fail.

Hit delete—scratch out one more line. I sonnet,

then break form. I make tea, use two bags.

Rooibos again. I bathe now. Epsom salt.

No books or phone. Just water & the sound

of water filling, glory—be my buoyant body,

bowl of me. Yes, lavender, more bubbles

& bath bomb, of course some candles too.

All alone with Coltrane. My favorite, “Naima,”

for his wife, now for me, inside my own womb.

Again, I child back. I float. I sing. I simple

& humble. Eyes close. I low my voice,

was it a psalm? Don’t know. But I stopped.

Feedback (Use this when completing the last part of the reflection!)

Feedback from my professor, Dr. Drevlow

· You have some really strong descriptions here, but right now we're relying a little too heavily on adjectives and adverbs.

Feedback from Dr. Tremble (former English Professor that has given me feedback on my work)

· To increase the imagery, Dr. Tremble suggested that I use a phrase like “blazing brew” instead of “scorching coffee”. This also brings in alliteration.

· She suggested that I use repetition to enhance the rhyme and action of dancing in the last few lines. For example, she suggested that I replace “To dance like I don’t have a care in the world” with,

“To dance, dance, dance

Like I have not one—

Yes, not one care in the world”.

· She suggested replacing “bed” with the word “mattress” because it is more specific. She suggested replacing the word “pain” with “throbbing discomfort” because it is more vivid to the senses. She suggested replacing the word “phone” with “device” or “electronic lifeline”. Be as specific as possible.

· She suggested replacing “stump” with the word “stub”. She suggested replacing “letting” with the word “allowing”. She suggested replacing the word “spill” with the word “pour” or “slosh” to emphasize the messiness of what happened.

·  Instead of saying “I want to drive my shopping buggy into a neat display of Lucky Charm cereal boxes”, she suggested that I break up the lines to emphasize the chaos of the action. For example,

“I want to crash—

My shopping bugging into the neat,

Pyramid of Lucky Charms.”