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OF THE POEM where the Chris Rice Cooper Blog (CRC) focuses on one
specific poem and how the poet wrote that specific poem. All BACKSTORY
OF THE POEM links are at the end of this piece.
#92 Backstory of the Poem “Original Sin” by Diane Lockward
The seed of my poem “Original Sin” had been in my head for years, ever since the time of the incident that’s narrated in the poem, so it goes back to my childhood, long before I even became a poet.
As the poem tells, I took the blame for something cruel that a girlfriend did to my pet rabbit. She pulled off my rabbit’s tail, then lied and told my father I had done it and for some reason I agreed that I had pulled off my rabbit’s tail. For years after I wondered why I had admitted to doing what I hadn’t done. It bugged me. Eventually, I started the poem.
As I took it through many drafts, I at long last arrived at a kind of epiphany, an explanation as to why had I lied about my friend’s lie. That moment of acknowledgment of guilt in the poem startled me. It was something I hadn’t known about myself and I’m still not sure it’s true. But I am sure that it works for the poem. Writing this poem was both surprise and discovery.
Where were you when you started to actually
write the poem? And please describe the place in great detail.
Almost certainly at my kitchen table which is where most of my poems begin—after breakfast, still sipping on ginger tea, the house quiet. The table is octagonal and sits right next to a sliding glass door.
Looking through the glass, I see birds at the feeders and the baths, I see squirrels cavorting, sometimes deer grazing. My creative brain is at its best in the morning. That’s when I get my best material. Later in the day I’m good for revising, but for creating, I’m a morning girl.
Almost certainly at my kitchen table which is where most of my poems begin—after breakfast, still sipping on ginger tea, the house quiet. The table is octagonal and sits right next to a sliding glass door.
Looking through the glass, I see birds at the feeders and the baths, I see squirrels cavorting, sometimes deer grazing. My creative brain is at its best in the morning. That’s when I get my best material. Later in the day I’m good for revising, but for creating, I’m a morning girl.
What month and year did you start writing this
poem?
It must have been sometime in 2011. Then it went through months of revision.
It must have been sometime in 2011. Then it went through months of revision.
How many drafts of this poem did you write
before going to the final? (And can you share a photograph of your rough drafts
with pen markings on it?)
I see about twenty drafts for this one. That’s actually fewer drafts than I often go through. Initially, I just wrote out the story on lined yellow legal pad paper. After several handwritten drafts, I went to the computer. Gradually, the form of the poem emerged. You’ll notice in the photos that I revise my drafts with red ink. I’ve heard students complain about red ink, but I always tell them it’s what I use on my own work. It makes it easier for me to see what and where my revisions are.
I see about twenty drafts for this one. That’s actually fewer drafts than I often go through. Initially, I just wrote out the story on lined yellow legal pad paper. After several handwritten drafts, I went to the computer. Gradually, the form of the poem emerged. You’ll notice in the photos that I revise my drafts with red ink. I’ve heard students complain about red ink, but I always tell them it’s what I use on my own work. It makes it easier for me to see what and where my revisions are.
Were there any lines in any of your rough
drafts of this poem that were not in the final version? And can you share
them with us?
In one draft I had “My father sent her home, then said I’d
been cruel.” I dropped the first half of that sentence and replaced it with “My
father slapped me hard.” That felt absolutely right as the gesture shows that
the father was dealing out his own kind of cruelty. In an even earlier draft, I
had “I did not even try to mitigate / my crime by calling it an accident.” That
had to go because the “crime” hadn’t been committed by the speaker. Also the
language there is too mature. The voice isn’t convincing. In an earlier draft
I’d also included more description of the tail: “…until it came loose and
bloody / in her hand and the rabbit fled, / leaving the bloody stump in Karen’s
hand.” There I’ve repeated “bloody” which I realized was overdoing it. I knew
the poem would be more effective if understated rather than graphic.
Which part of the poem was the most emotional for
you to write and why?
Most definitely the end which left me feeling stunned, almost breathless. I had not anticipated arriving at that ending, that awareness. I felt sad for the little girl I’d been who could not speak up for herself. I suppose that an argument could be made for loyalty, that the speaker was being loyal to her friend, but I think it was more cowardice than loyalty. Fear of the father. That, too, for sure.
Most definitely the end which left me feeling stunned, almost breathless. I had not anticipated arriving at that ending, that awareness. I felt sad for the little girl I’d been who could not speak up for herself. I suppose that an argument could be made for loyalty, that the speaker was being loyal to her friend, but I think it was more cowardice than loyalty. Fear of the father. That, too, for sure.
Has this poem been published before? And
if so, where?
Yes, it was first published in the Naugatuck River Review, 2013. It won the journal’s annual poetry contest for 2012, that year judged by Pam Uschuk. That was an absolutely stunning surprise, too! The poem was later published in my book, The Uneaten Carrots of Atonement, and is, in fact, the title poem of the book; the book’s title is a line from the poem.
Yes, it was first published in the Naugatuck River Review, 2013. It won the journal’s annual poetry contest for 2012, that year judged by Pam Uschuk. That was an absolutely stunning surprise, too! The poem was later published in my book, The Uneaten Carrots of Atonement, and is, in fact, the title poem of the book; the book’s title is a line from the poem.
Anything you would like to add?
I’d like to invite your readers to subscribe to my free monthly Poetry Newsletter. Each issue includes a craft tip from a well-established poet, a model poem, a prompt based on the poem, some links, a book recommendation or a cartoon, and a video. Sign up at:
I’d like to invite your readers to subscribe to my free monthly Poetry Newsletter. Each issue includes a craft tip from a well-established poet, a model poem, a prompt based on the poem, some links, a book recommendation or a cartoon, and a video. Sign up at:
Original Sin
When
Karen told my father I’d pulled off
my
rabbit’s tail, he asked, Did you? And
I
said,
Yes, though in truth it was Karen
who’d
grabbed the tail and tugged and tugged
until
it came loose in her hand. My father
slapped
me hard, said I’d been cruel,
and
asked why I’d done it. I confessed I didn’t
know
and took the strap for Karen’s crime.
In
the days and weeks that followed, I never
questioned
or accused Karen, and she never
acknowledged
what she’d done or apologized.
We
did not speak of her lie, or mine.
One
morning at summer’s end I found my rabbit
dead
in her pen. Her sweet body, already stiff,
lay
among the uneaten carrots of atonement,
and
where the tail had been, a small red circle,
an
accusing eye, reminded me of my deception.
I
wondered then and wonder still why I took
the
blame for hurting the pet I’d loved. I only know
that
once Karen said I’d done it and my father
looked
at me as if I had, I was guilty,
as
guilty as those unbaptized babies
in
Purgatory. I must have understood even then
that
I’d been born bad and the only reason
I
hadn’t yanked off my rabbit’s tail was because
Karen
got it first. Some part of me, the part
already
destined for Hell, had wanted
that
soft talisman that promised luck, wanted it
in
my own hand, and wished I’d moved faster.
Diane Lockward is the editor of The Practicing Poet: Writing Beyond the
Basics (Terrapin Books, 2018) and two previous craft books, The Crafty
Poet II: A Portable Workshop (Terrapin Books, 2016) and The Crafty Poet:
A Portable Workshop (Terrapin Books, rev. ed., 2016).
She is also the author of four poetry books, most recently The Uneaten Carrots of Atonement (Wind Publications, 2016). Her awards include the Quentin R. Howard Poetry Prize, a poetry fellowship from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts, and a Woman of Achievement Award. Her poems have been included in such journals as Harvard Review, Southern Poetry Review, and Prairie Schooner. Her work has also been featured on Poetry Daily, Verse Daily, The Writer’s Almanac, and Ted Kooser’s American Life in Poetry. She is the publisher of Terrapin Books.
Website: www.dianelockward.com
Blogalicious: http://dianelockward.blogspot.com
She is also the author of four poetry books, most recently The Uneaten Carrots of Atonement (Wind Publications, 2016). Her awards include the Quentin R. Howard Poetry Prize, a poetry fellowship from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts, and a Woman of Achievement Award. Her poems have been included in such journals as Harvard Review, Southern Poetry Review, and Prairie Schooner. Her work has also been featured on Poetry Daily, Verse Daily, The Writer’s Almanac, and Ted Kooser’s American Life in Poetry. She is the publisher of Terrapin Books.
Blogalicious: http://dianelockward.blogspot.com
BACKSTORY OF THE POEM
LINKS
001 December 29, 2017
Margo
Berdeshevksy’s “12-24”
002 January 08, 2018
Alexis
Rhone Fancher’s “82 Miles From the Beach, We Order The Lobster At Clear Lake
Café”
003 January 12, 2018
Barbara
Crooker’s “Orange”
004 January 22, 2018
Sonia
Saikaley’s “Modern Matsushima”
005 January 29, 2018
Ellen
Foos’s “Side Yard”
006 February 03, 2018
Susan
Sundwall’s “The Ringmaster”
007 February 09, 2018
Leslea
Newman’s “That Night”
008 February 17, 2018
Alexis
Rhone Fancher “June Fairchild Isn’t Dead”
009 February 24, 2018
Charles
Clifford Brooks III “The Gift of the Year With Granny”
010 March 03, 2018
Scott
Thomas Outlar’s “The Natural Reflection of Your Palms”
011 March 10, 2018
Anya
Francesca Jenkins’s “After Diane Beatty’s Photograph “History Abandoned”
012 March 17, 2018
Angela
Narciso Torres’s “What I Learned This Week”
013 March 24, 2018
Jan
Steckel’s “Holiday On ICE”
014 March 31, 2018
Ibrahim
Honjo’s “Colors”
015 April 14, 2018
Marilyn
Kallett’s “Ode to Disappointment”
016 April 27, 2018
Beth
Copeland’s “Reliquary”
017 May 12, 2018
Marlon
L Fick’s “The Swallows of Barcelona”
018 May 25, 2018
Juliet
Cook’s “ARTERIAL DISCOMBOBULATION”
019 June 09, 2018
Alexis
Rhone Fancher’s “Stiletto Killer. . . A Surmise”
020 June 16, 2018
Charles
Rammelkamp’s “At Last I Can Start Suffering”
021 July 05, 2018
Marla
Shaw O’Neill’s “Wind Chimes”
022 July 13, 2018
Julia Gordon-Bramer’s
“Studying Ariel”
023 July 20, 2018
Bill Yarrow’s “Jesus
Zombie”
024 July 27, 2018
Telaina Eriksen’s “Brag
2016”
025 August 01, 2018
Seth Berg’s “It is only
Yourself that Bends – so Wake up!”
026 August 07, 2018
David Herrle’s “Devil In
the Details”
027 August 13, 2018
Gloria Mindock’s “Carmen
Polo, Lady Necklaces, 2017”
028 August 21, 2018
Connie Post’s “Two
Deaths”
029 August 30, 2018
Mary Harwell Sayler’s
“Faces in a Crowd”
030 September 16, 2018
Larry Jaffe’s “The
Risking Point”
031 September 24,
2018
Mark Lee Webb’s “After
We Drove”
032 October 04, 2018
Melissa Studdard’s
“Astral”
033 October 13, 2018
Robert Craven’s “I Have
A Bass Guitar Called Vanessa”
034 October 17, 2018
David Sullivan’s “Paper Mache
Peaches of Heaven”
035 October 23, 2018
Timothy Gager’s
“Sobriety”
036 October 30, 2018
Gary Glauber’s “The
Second Breakfast”
037 November 04, 2018
Heather Forbes-McKeon’s
“Melania’s Deaf Tone Jacket”
038 November 11, 2018
Andrena Zawinski’s
“Women of the Fields”
039 November 00, 2018
Gordon Hilger’s “Poe”
040 November 16, 2018
Rita Quillen’s “My
Children Question Me About Poetry” and “Deathbed Dreams”
041 November 20, 2018
Jonathan Kevin Rice’s
“Dog Sitting”
042 November 22, 2018
Haroldo Barbosa Filho’s
“Mountain”
043 November 27, 2018
Megan Merchant’s “Grief Flowers”
044 November 30, 2018
Jonathan P Taylor’s
“This poem is too neat”
045 December 03, 2018
Ian Haight’s “Sungmyo
for our Dead Father-in-Law”
046 December 06, 2018
Nancy Dafoe’s “Poem in
the Throat”
047 December 11, 2018
Jeffrey Pearson’s “Memorial
Day”
048 December 14, 2018
Frank Paino’s “Laika”
049 December 15, 2018
Jennifer Martelli’s
“Anniversary”
O50 December 19, 2018
Joseph Ross’s “For Gilberto Ramos, 15, Who Died in
the Texas Desert, June 2014”
051 December 23, 2018
“The Persistence of
Music”
by Anatoly Molotkov
052 December 27, 2018
“Under Surveillance”
by Michael Farry
053 December 28, 2018
“Grand Finale”
by Renuka Raghavan
054 December 29, 2018
“Aftermath”
by Gene Barry
055 January 2, 2019
“&”
by Larissa Shmailo
056 January 7, 2019
“The Seamstress:
by Len Kuntz
057 January 10, 2019
"Natural History"
by Camille T Dungy
058 January 11, 2019
“BLOCKADE”
by Brian Burmeister
059 January 12, 2019
“Lost”
by Clint Margrave
060 January 14, 2019
“Menopause”
by Pat Durmon
061 January 19, 2019
“Neptune’s Choir”
by Linda Imbler
062 January 22, 2019
“Views From the
Driveway”
by Amy Barone
063 January 25, 2019
“The heron leaves her
haunts in the marsh”
by Gail Wronsky
064 January 30, 2019
“Shiprock”
by Terry Lucas
065 February 02, 2019
“Summer 1970, The
University of Virginia Opens to Women in the Fall”
by Alarie Tennille
066 February 05, 2019
“At School They Learn
Nouns”
by Patrick Bizzaro
067 February 06, 2019
“I Must Not Breathe”
by Angela Jackson-Brown
068 February 11, 2019
“Lunch on City Island,
Early June”
by Christine Potter
069 February 12, 2019
“Singing”
by Andrew McFadyen-Ketchum
070 February 14, 2019
“Daily Commute”
by Christopher P. Locke
071 February 18, 2019
“How Silent The Trees”
by Wyn Cooper
072 February 20, 2019
“A New Psalm
of Montreal”
by Sheenagh Pugh
073 February 23, 2019
“Make Me A
Butterfly”
by Amy Barbera
074 February 26, 2019
“Anthem”
by Sandy Coomer
075 March 4, 2019
“Shape of a Violin”
by Kelly Powell
076 March 5, 2019
“Inward Oracle”
by J.P. Dancing Bear
077 March 7, 2019
“I Broke
My Bust Of Jesus”
by Susan Sundwall
078 March 9, 2019
“My Mother
at 19”
by John Guzlowski
079 March 10, 2019
“Paddling”
by Chera Hammons Miller
080 March 12, 2019
“Of Water
and Echo”
by Gillian Cummings
081 082
083 March 14, 2019
“Little
Political Sense” “Crossing Kansas with
Jim
Morrison” “The Land of Sky and Blue Waters”
by Dr. Lindsey
Martin-Bowen
084 March 15, 2019
“A Tune To
Remember”
by Anna Evans
085 March 19, 2019
“At the
End of Time (Wish You Were Here)
by Jeannine Hall Gailey
086 March 20, 2019
“Garden of
Gethsemane”
by Marletta Hemphill
087 March 21, 2019
“Letters
From a War”
by Chelsea Dingman
088 March 26, 2019
“HAT”
by Bob Heman
089 March 27, 2019
“Clay for
the Potter”
by Belinda Bourgeois
#090 March 30, 2019
“The Pose”
by John Hicks
#091 April 2, 2019
“Last
Night at the Wursthause”
by Doug Holder
#092 April 4, 2019
“Original
Sin”
by Diane Lockward
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