A Summer of Poetry by Alan Anderson

 

Words jump around,

they mingle in my head,

they keep me awake when I have gone to bed.

They wake me up with a giggle and a “hee hee”

then remind me morning always means coffee.

I tell myself as I think of summer,

without a book, it would be a bummer.

                                by Alan Anderson

 

This summer I am reading, as well as writing poetry. Poetry is the genre I focus on these days, at least for the most part. I mentioned in my February 22, 2021 InScribe blog post how a sleep apnea condition has left me with slight memory and concentration challenges. These challenges persist but I cope well with them, for the most part. The challenges teach me the importance of persistence in my call to write. I need the embrace of poetry these days.

 

My goal to write well means I also want to read well. This summer I am reading A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver. I am also reading and studying a book I love called The Poet’s Companion, by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux. As I read these books, they teach me about the craft of poetry. They also remind me of the love and curiosity I had for poetry and stories I enjoyed as a boy.

 

I remember when I made my way through the obstacles of my life as a young boy, I resonated with certain characters. Do you remember Jack and Jill? Here is a brief look at an experience in their lives. Disclaimer: Even after decades of being read by countless children and adults, this stanza is not for the squeamish.

 

Jack and Jill went up the hill,

To fetch a pail of water;

Jack fell down and broke his crown.

And Jill came tumbling after.

 

I understand this poem later informs readers Jack, and Jill suffered no permanent injuries. As a boy I didn’t know this. For years I wondered if Jack ever went up this hill again. A question about his fall haunted me. Did his crown ever heal or reach a level of repair where he didn’t walk around with a huge bump on his head?

 

I read a story in my childhood still stuck in the recesses of my boyish memory. The story of Hansel and Gretel. Please forgive me if the very mention of the title causes readers to shudder. The story of these two beautiful souls offered me an introduction to horror stories. Oh, my Lord, the thought of the witch and her mean intentions for Hansel and Gretel haunts me. I admit in a similar light the way the witch met her end brings no pleasure to my creative leanings.

 

I share these memories from my childhood to say my imagination remains inspired through poetry and stories to this day. I also see the need to learn more about the craft of writing poetry. This is a reason I enjoy working through A Poetry Handbook and The Poet’s Companion. Books like these encourage me to appreciate poetry even more. They reinforce the need of poets to be aware and respect formal poetry and the popular free verse style common today.

 

I am entering a new chapter in my life story as I allow poetry to absorb me. As I write my poems, I embrace them like companions. I also embrace times of solitude to allow the poems time to gather their thoughts to express themselves. The poems understand me more than I understand myself.

Alan lives in Deroche, B.C. with his wife, Terry. He contributed stories to Good Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017, Story by Story: The Power of a Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018, and Easter Stories & More, by InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, 2021. He has also written articles for FellowScript Magazine. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca. Alan is the Provincial Rep. Liaison and BC Rep for InScribe.

Going Green--Bamboo Green by Connie Inglis

I do enjoy seeing the new growth, the new green, of spring. I realize for some of you, spring has been green for a few months. For those of us on the Canadian prairies, the new green growth of spring is just beginning. And it is truly invigorating after months of white, months of no growth but only cold harshness.

My writing went through a long, long winter like that--something I shared about in last month's blog. But then shoots of growth started sprouting--Holy Spirit-driven sprouts of greenness and new life. It was unexpected but oh so welcoming to my frozen heart and soul.

I cannot explain how my life has changed since those green sprouts returned. I just know I never want to go back to the tundra. Which presents a challenge: How do I keep my writing green?

First and foremost, I need to invite the Spirit into everything that pertains to writing... that includes any reading I do, any listening to sermons or podcasts I do, any music listening I do, even any tv watching I do. I am still learning this one. It takes practice but if I keep it up, it will become a habit. I have discovered that you just never know when an idea will jump out at you if you are in the "write" frame of mind. That's one of the things I LOVE about the Holy Spirit--He is anything but predictable. That's what makes His inspiration so fresh and green.

In his book, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, Stephen King states, "If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot." I've always been a reader. However, I have recently been choosing books that help me with my writing--books like, Ordinary Genius by Kim Addonizio, Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury and, You are a Writer (So Start Acting Like One) by Jeff Goins. Each author has a unique perspective on their craft and as I read I feel like a young "Grasshopper" sitting at their feet with so much to learn.

I am also learning to read proactively--to read seeking something fresh, green, inspirational. You might think that ruins the enjoyment of reading but it actually has made the reading more enjoyable. Sounds strange I know. Again, I believe that's the working of the Spirit.

It's the writing that I had stopped long ago that has returned and I'm learning that it requires work. I always thought that for famous authors writing came easy, with little work. I am learning that this is a false assumption.  In the book mentioned above, Jeff Goins says, “Everything is practice. Every word you write and action you take is a chance to get better.” Believe it or not, this encourages me. I'm not afraid of work. I have learned throughout my life that perseverance pays off--that the Spirit is present in the perseverance. That doesn't mean there won't be slow days or "writer's block" days. But I believe it does mean there will no longer be years of winter. For that I am thankful.

I am still a novice--my toes are just beginning to sink into the pristine sands of an undiscovered tropical island, one that is lush and green. Funny, when I think of green growth, my years of living in Southeast Asia take my imagination to a picture of bamboo forests. I love bamboo for many reasons. In how it relates to writing, I love its green growth--without hibernation, without winter. Bamboo is strong yet pliable. It will bend but not break. It is also persevering. Cut it down and the growth will return. In fact, some species of bamboo can grow three feet in 24 hours. What?!! Now that's prolific. It's sort of scary to say this (because of the prolific part) but I feel like my writing is a bamboo forest right now--a forest where God's Spirit is alive, weaving in and out of the graceful jointed stems, catching the Light on the slender leaves. I feel alive--hardly able to breathe sometimes--and it is beautiful. God is oh so good.