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***This is
the forty-third in a never-ending
series called BACKSTORY 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.
*Below title photo of Megan Merchant in January of 2011. Copyright permission granted by Megan Merchant for this CRC Blog Post Only
#43 Backstory of the Poem
“Grief Flowers”
by Megan Merchant
Can you go through the step-by-step process
of writing this poem from the moment the idea was first conceived in your brain
until final form? I love the Buddhist
concept of a “Storehouse of Consciousness” and think of it like a basement
where, as I’m going thought the daily business of living, lines, images, and
sounds take residence. I’m not wholly aware of this process happening as it’s
unfolding, but somehow, once I am able to sit down and tend to the business of
getting the poem onto the page, those bits rise up and thread into the fabric
of language and form. I’ve been told by those I am trying to be present with
that I’m always working on a poem, consciously or not.
This means that, in
most cases, I cannot track the moment a poem enters into my brain. But one of
the poems in this collection that kept speaking to me, loudly, over and again, is
the title poem. The finished version came out of a Poetry Barn workshop (https://www.poetrybarn.co/) that I was taking
about how to avoid sentimentality when writing about motherhood. (Below Left: Poetry Barn Web Logo Photo)
It’s possible
that I had enrolled in that workshop just to find a way to bring this poem onto
the page. In looking back, I had been writing versions of it for months, in
different forms and ways, in blips and stanzas and lines that never threaded
into a finished piece, until I allowed myself to sit down and write "Grief
Flowers". I think that I needed someone to give me permission before
letting it rise up and find a form. https://glass-lyre-press.myshopify.com/collections/full-length-collections-1/products/grief-flowers
Where were you when you started to actually
write the poem? And please describe the place in great detail. I was sitting at my tiny desk, in the corner of our kitchen,
next to the windows that open to tall pines. Most likely my littlest was
playing nearby, with magnets or some other bright sensory toy. Once I finally
gave myself permission to write it, the poem came out whole in less than ten
min. (Right: Attribution and copyright permission granted by Megan Merchant for this CRC Blog Post Only)
What month and year did you start writing
this poem? I am sorry, I don’t recall exactly and I am terrible at
keeping track. 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?) When I submitted the
poem for the workshop, there were a few comments suggesting revisions. I ended
up making a few changes and the second draft was published in Diode
Poetry Journal. The third version is the one in the book. (http://diodepoetry.com/)
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? The second version was
published by Diode Poetry Journal and can be viewed here : http://diodepoetry.com/merchant_megan/
That version isn’t broken into stanzas, and
includes:
"like a yellowed leaf dripping
from its branch
once the frost lifts?"
"boiling in my blood" (this became "marrowed in my blood")
What do you want readers of this poem to take
from this poem? When I began writing
the poems in this collection, the title poem included, there was a mantra
streaming through my head each time that I sat down. “Make it beautiful”. I’m not sure exactly where that originated, but
it was present with me throughout. It gave me the courage to write about loss
and grief in a way that wasn’t shutting down the conversation, but in an
attempt to open it wide. That mantra also gave me the courage to put this part
of my life and experience into art, knowing that I wasn’t alone. I was hopeful
that the reader might feel seen, or understood. (Left: attributed to and copyright permission granted by Megan Merchant for this CRC Blog Post Only)
When
I had no idea that all of the city, all over the world, there were people
walking around sealed in their own universe of loss, independent solar systems
of suffering closed off from the regular world …
Miscarriage is
terribly isolating, and people don’t really know what to say about that kind of
loss. I wanted the reader to know that there was someone out there trying to
deconstruct the silence, imposed guilt, and triteness, that often closes around
women when it comes to any mention of reproductive health or issues.
Which part of the poem was the most emotional
of you to write and why? When I read this poem
out loud, I always choke up at the lines “Can our bodies / whisper her back
into being?” It follows the mention of
the fetus in a very sterile way: “will it thrum electric to the tangle of
tissue / that wadded into a clot.” But, by then immediately assigning a pronoun
to that tissue, it counters with emotion and the kind of bargaining that phases
into grief.
Anything you would like to add? Thank you for the
opportunity to share this. I am very grateful to my publisher and all of the
editors at Glass Lyre Press. They
are doing meaningful work, not only in bringing new and brave voices into
print, but also in the form of benefit anthologies, including “Carrying
the Branch: Poets in Search of Peace” and “Collateral Damage” (https://glass-lyre-press.myshopify.com/collections/anthologies/products/carrying-the-branch-poets-in-search-of-peace) that raise money for people affected by terror attacks, political
strife, oppression, children with basic survival needs, for programs that protect and educate children, and foster child advocacy. You can find those in their online bookstores here: https://glass-lyre-press.myshopify.com
Grief Flowers
I lay my ring
in the glass dish
each night to
scrub my hands clean.
The band,
silver, was picked knowing
it would grow
soft with scratches.
My husband sets
his by the bed,
brink-gray,
titanium,
before reaching
for my body—
a vase
overfilled with grief flowers,
popping
blood-red from their thin stems.
I think, if I
let him
stroke me close
to the catch
in my breath
will it thrum
electric to the tangle of tissue
that wadded
into a clot.
Can our bodies
whisper her
back into being?
I know already,
if it does not pass-
slip into the
toilet to be flushed,
they will lace
my veins with a syringe
of dreams and
clean house.
Suck the
wishbone
and eyelash
flutters of growth
from their
nest—where she’d rather
stay, daughter
of mine, marrowed
in my blood,
collapsed
underneath the weight
of a name we
never let fully
leave our
mouths.
Megan Merchant lives in the tall pines
of Prescott, AZ with her husband and two children. (Right: Megan with her husband and two sons in 2016. Copyright permission granted by Megan Merchant for this CRC Blog Post Only)
(Below Left: Megan in October of 2018. Copyright permission granted by Megan Merchant for this
CRC Blog Post Only)
She is the author of three full-length poetry collections with
Glass Lyre Press: Gravel Ghosts (2016),
The Dark’s Humming (2015
Lyrebird Award Winner, 2017), Grief
Flowers (2018), four chapbooks, and a children’s book, These Words I Shaped for You
(Philomel Books). She was awarded the 2016-2017 COG Literary Award, judged by
Juan Felipe Herrera, the 2018 Beullah Rose Poetry Prize, and most recently,
second place in the Pablo Neruda Prize for Poetry. She is an Editor at The
Comstock Review and you can find her work at meganmerchant.wix.com/poet
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”
For the longest time
the working title of the novel was Urram Hill. Urram being a Gaelic word
meaning dignity. It’s the name of the
farm where the main character is from. (Right: On the Pain Beyond The Trees attributed and copyright permission granted by Christian Fennell for this CRC Blog Post Only) 
