Can I Write Good Poetry?

                                                Sara M. Robinson

How will I know if my poetry is good? That is a question I am often asked. And it is almost impossible to answer. First of all, what do we mean by “good”? The person creating the work should determine his/her own definition. Good is SO subjective. But before you even ask that question, get the poem down, then work on the “good” part. For me to supply either an encouraging answer or to attempt to define it, would be like trying to train a rhino to heel.



But the question does determine an attempt. Here are my thoughts, presented as a list:


With something completed, ask yourself if you like what you wrote. Even if you like it, can you like it even more with some revision? Revision can be the most fun about writing poetry.


What was your original goal for the poetry? Did you achieve that? If yes, then think about the importance of the goal’s satisfaction. If no, then go back over what you write and try to find pieces to fix, keeping the goal in mind.


Read other poets and explore why you like or don’t like their writing. Use their writing to help you put together a definition for “good.”


Poetry is not just about good writing; it is also about feeling. When someone scratches your back, you say “that feels good.” Good poetry should also make you feel good. Also bear in mind that good poetry can make you feel bad. (And that could be good in a totally different context). Poetry is an intimate relationship in which both good and bad exist.


Think about texture of your poem. What other feelings do your words invoke?


Are you satisfied with presentation of the poem? How does it look on the page to you? If you are not happy with it, what changes could you make?


Don’t try to find “good” in one sitting. Let the poem under consideration stew for a while, then come back to it. Time is always on your side.



In her poem, “To Charlie, on His Poetry,” poet Alicia Ostriker writes, “The zoom of your poem would often/ pull far out from the scene you were capturing, // then you would nail it, down to the last/ pixel of the truth.” …



You will write in your life a number of words. Some will come together. Some won’t. When you feel like you have nailed your poem, and you feel good about it, then at the very least, for you the poem is good. Now you can get that rhino to heel.



Until next time…

Sara M. Robinson, founder of the Lonesome Mountain Pro(s)e Writers’ Workshop, and former Instructor of a course on Contemporary American Poets at UVA-OLLI, was poetry columnist for Southern Writers Magazine and inagural poetry editor for Virginia Literary Journal. She has served as guest lecturer at UVA’s College at Wise, Wise, VA. Her poetry has appeared in various anthologies, including We Grew Wings and Flew (2014), Scratching Against the Fabric (2015), Virginia Writer’s Club Centennial Anthology (2017), Blue Ridge Anthologies and Mizmor Anthology (2018). Journals include: Loch Raven Review, The Virginia Literary Journal, vox poetica, Jimson Weed, Whisky Advocate, and Poetica. She is poet and author of Love Always, Hobby and Jessie (2009), Two Little Girls in a Wading Pool (2012), A Cruise in Rare Waters (2013 Stones for Words (2014), Sometimes the Little Town (2016), a finalist for the Poetry Society of Virginia’s 2017 Book Award. In 2019, Needville, her poetry about effects of coal mining on SW Virginia was released and in 2020 debuted as play in Charlottesville. Her most recent publication is Simple River (2020, Cyberwit).


https://saramrobinson.com/

The Poetry of Activism We Witness

By Sara M. Robinson

I’ve been asked by many friends and associates why they haven’t seen any activist poetry from me. How do I write about current events? Or will I write about current events? Using poetry, I remarked that this is a very good and timely question. I struggled to provide an adequate answer, however. My hesitation is based on the major stumbling block for me: Where in the world would I start?

To write about world events and our own home country events is a challenge. We are compelled (theoretically, I think) as poets to be the witnesses of our surroundings then write about events in creative ways that provide thought provocation for our readers.

In a future Southern Writers Magazine column, titled “The Poetry of Witness,” I credit the amazing Carolyn Forché with coining that term. She describes in her writings what she sees as inequities of life around her. Another greatly admired poet, is Nikki Giovanni. Her memorable convocation after the Virginia Tech massacre of 2017 was and remains a powerful poetic statement and reminder about our history. 

So, how does all this come back to me? For one thing, as a poet, I constantly remind myself to be observant of all I can see. I take notes in my faithful companion journal. I talk to people and engage them to talk. One of my greatest pleasures is meeting weekly with senior citizen residents at a local retirement community. I use poetry from lots of sources to engage my attendees in conversation about their feelings and impressions. This is activism, using poetry as a “tool” to engage what I see as elderly folks wanting to stay relevant. Many of our weekly meetings inspire me to write poetry about the process of aging and the longevity of love. Often, I write poems for some of the attendees, to mark a birthday or some special event. Sometimes I’ve written poems as eulogy when the group has lost a member. In this way I suppose I have witnessed.

Now, back to the original question. While I may not be currently writing about politics or world events, I believe I write about life. I am a witness to life around me, and I use my poetry to advocate the beauty of living and the respect of aging; and lastly the hope I have gained wisdom of language to express all this in remarkable ways. A key component of my writing is to the creative use of language. After all, it is the basis for all that is human. Without language, we could only witness, we could not share.

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Sara M. Robinson, award-winning poet, founder of the Lonesome Mountain Pro(s)e Writers’ Workshop, and former Instructor of a course on Contemporary American Poets at UVA-OLLI, is poetry columnist for Southern Writers Magazine and poetry editor for Virginia Literary Journal. In addition to publication in various anthologies, including We Grew Wings and Flew (2014), Scratching Against the Fabric (2015), and Virginia Writer’s Club Centennial Anthology (2017); journals: Loch Raven Review, The Virginia Literary Journal, vox poetica, Jimson Weed, and Poetica, she is poet and author of Love Always, Hobby and Jessie (2009), Two Little Girls in a Wading Pool (2012), A Cruise in Rare Waters (2013), and Stones for Words (2014). Her latest poetry book, Sometimes the Little Town, released in February 2016, was a finalist for the Poetry Society of Virginia’s 2017 Book Award.