And, finally, a poem is born.

If you’ve been following my labor pains as I make the effort to complete the assignments for an advanced poetry workshop at the New York State Writer’s Institute, you know that
–the first assignment was to write three different possible first stanzas (of 11 lines each, each line between 9 and 13 syllables) based on this Vermeer painting. At the first session, the group came to consensus about which of each of our three stanzas was the one we should each go with.
–the second assignment was to sharpen that selected first stanza and write three second stanzas (I only could get out one). The same consensus process followed — except for mine, of course since I gave them no choice.
–the third assignment was to write three possible versions of a third stanza. I missed that workshop session for lots of reasons, including that I didn’t have the time or energy to come up with even one possible third stanza.
If you didn’t know all of that before, you know it now.
Our last workshop session is tomorrow. The assignment for that was to arrive with and share, in whatever form and fomat we finally freed ourselves to choose, our poem about the painting.
Here’s mine. Much better, doncha’ think? Well, too bad if you don’t because I do.
Vermeer

1 thought on “And, finally, a poem is born.

  1. Elaine, I love this version, which is obviously the result of all that hard work (revision, revision, and re-vision, and then more revision) or polishing, of making the pearl of words reflect the “ruby dreams” that’s at the heart of the poem!
    I assume that you’ll fill us in about the last workshop!

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