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***This is the #137 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.
#137 Backstory of the Poem
“Then She Was Forever”
“Then She Was Forever”
by Paula Persoleo
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 read Fleda
Brown’s Fishing with Blood,
and I was moved by the people and places the poem described. But what stood out
to me the most was the sense of sadness from loss that permeated the
collection—a kind of sadness that I could relate to, for many personal reasons.
I knew I had to capture that feeling in my own poem, and I knew that I’d have
to use Fleda Brown’s words to do it.
I had written a cento (also known as a “found” poetry) before in
a graduate workshop, so I decided to use that form for this poem. I had to make
some parameters for myself in order to focus on how to put the poem together,
so I limited myself to only one line from each poem I borrowed from in Fleda’s
book (including the title). I also allowed myself to change capitalization and
punctuation, but I didn’t change any of the words from the chosen lines. (There
is some flexibility of late with verb forms in many centos, but I wasn’t
willing to make that concession.)
I made a list of lines I liked from all of the poems in the book,
then I sifted through them for specific lines that stood out and that I thought
I could somehow weave together. The title, oddly enough, was the first line I
chose; instinctively I knew it would be the title of the poem. That helped me
cut out lines with masculine pronouns, so I had a focal point for the poem’s
subject. I had to answer the question, “What will make her ‘forever’?”
before I could delve too deeply into the poem, and I decided the line “she felt
like an angel, transcending events” was the key to that answer. That brought
the idea of “flight” to mind, except I was still thinking about that “fishing
lead” and how heavy the poems in the book felt, so I had to resolve that
conflict.
The poem just fell into triplets as I patched lines together. I
can’t really explain why triplets worked, or why the first and third lines had
to be longer than the second, but it felt right, both sonically and visually.
Especially in the first draft, I worked hard to avoid too many end-stopped
lines (many centos rely on that, which makes them feel forced at times) and
also to create “sentences” in which subjects and verbs agreed. Beyond that, I
felt like I had little control over how that draft came together because the
words weren’t mine.
The first of my writing groups that read the poem, then, had
little to say about it since they knew the words were fixed; all they pointed
out were lines they liked and parts that weren’t working.X
The second writing group pointed out parts that seemed repetitive
or not visual enough. I went back to the drawing board and reviewed all the
lines I had culled, then added more and started to move pieces around while
working hard to keep the “sense” of the poem intact. The next meetings repeated
that process, and I almost scratched the whole thing. I read the book again and
found more lines that I thought would fit, and by the final draft I had the same
shape for the poem but only six of the lines (including the final two) remained.
I think I unconsciously repeated the “s” sound throughout the poem (I only
noticed it now that I’m reading it again), but it works because it holds
everything together and it emphasizes the most important words in the piece. I
knew I was done because the poem felt complete.
Where were you when you started to
actually write the poem? And please describe the place in great detail. I was home when I began writing. I always write, for
better or worse, in my bedroom, where I can turn the phone off and concentrate;
the doors stay shut, the television stays off. My laptop, Fleda’s book, and I
sat on my bed next to the one lamp that was turned on. The heater hummed in the
background, but otherwise the house was quiet.
What month and year did you start
writing this poem? I began writing the poem in
October 2017.
How many drafts of this poem did you write before going to the final? There weren’t many drafts of this poem, mainly because the nature of found poetry is such that the words can’t change—so either the poem works or it doesn’t, and when a part of it isn’t working then whole lines have to come and go in order for the sense of the poem to be maintained. I have two writing groups, so both saw the first version I wrote. I believe there were three or four drafts altogether, though, and the group that meets more often saw all of those drafts.
How many drafts of this poem did you write before going to the final? There weren’t many drafts of this poem, mainly because the nature of found poetry is such that the words can’t change—so either the poem works or it doesn’t, and when a part of it isn’t working then whole lines have to come and go in order for the sense of the poem to be maintained. I have two writing groups, so both saw the first version I wrote. I believe there were three or four drafts altogether, though, and the group that meets more often saw all of those drafts.
See secondary attachment for photo of first draft. (Below Right)
Were there any lines in any of your
rough drafts of this poem that were not in the final version? Only six lines (not including the title) stayed from the
first draft! The rest were added, moved, and (ultimately) cut until I decided
the poem reflected the feelings of its persona(e).
What do you want readers of this poem to
take from this poem? The thing I don’t
want this poem to be is a glorification of suicide, because that’s not my
intention. Instead, I’d like it to be read as a sympathetic response to suicide
and suicidal ideation, because the act often is not a decision made in an
instant. It’s a lonely, personal act, a response to deep pain, which is why we
have to talk about it and why we should keep advertising the National Suicide
Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255. Because if we don’t communicate with those
who are suffering, then they’ll feel like suicide is the only means of escape.
Which part of the poem was the most emotional of you to write and why? Probably the second stanza was the most emotional one. It took me a while until I found what felt like the right juxtaposition between sinking and jumping, since for this poem the two acts are inherently related to each other. Then, when I realized the double-meaning of “spring” and how it worked as both a catalyst and as a result, I knew I hit the emotional core of the poem because “the stubborn urge to leap” is physical and mental, and it’s desired and feared: a quick act with permanent consequences. I was startled by the complexity of that revelation and all the trauma that goes with it.
Has this poem been published before? And
if so where? The poem was published, both in
print and online, in January 2018 by Into the Void magazine: https://intothevoidmagazine.com/article/then-she-was-forever/.
Anything you would like to add? More often than not, the cento is a funny poem (like John
Ashbery’s “The Dong with the Luminous Nose”) https://nonsenselit.com
/2015/12/04/john-ashbery
-the-dong-with-the-luminous-nose-1998/
/2015/12/04/john-ashbery
-the-dong-with-the-luminous-nose-1998/
because a writer sometimes
has to force together lines that just don’t want to go together, and the
results can be hilarious. But, and this just might be me, not one cento I’ve
ever written or tried to write has been even a little bit lighthearted. It’s a
reflection of what I read, of course, but it probably means I need to read more
that makes me laugh.
Then She was Forever
Invisible as night (to let
infinity show through)
she stands naked,
does not dare to move. Now,
she stands naked,
does not dare to move. Now,
unruffled and heavy as
fishing lead,
the stubborn urge to leap
uncurls again—this spring—as if the world
the stubborn urge to leap
uncurls again—this spring—as if the world
can remember exactly what’s
been broken.
Into papery silence
there are only shadows blowing,
Into papery silence
there are only shadows blowing,
every angle of her variously
a sigh, a stretch,
despair, a space scooped cleanly from desire.
a sigh, a stretch,
despair, a space scooped cleanly from desire.
This place is as close as she
can get.
Springing and releasing,
off in a burst—a pyre to scatter its scars—
Springing and releasing,
off in a burst—a pyre to scatter its scars—
she felt like an angel,
transcending events
the way dreams do
from the one clean leap of light,
the way dreams do
from the one clean leap of light,
blessed. Nothing is closer
than death
(suicide is the word I say).
Blood stayed on the ground till it rained.
(suicide is the word I say).
Blood stayed on the ground till it rained.
All lines in the poem, as
well as the title, are derived from Fleda Brown’s collection Fishing with Blood: ‘O’Keeffe: An Expert Explains Her Work,’ ‘Plain
People: Grossdawdy,’ ‘Edward Hopper’s Women,’ ‘Goat,’ ‘Catching Turtles,’
‘Small Inheritances,’ ‘Bed-Buffaloes, Nose-Fairies, Car-Key Gnomes,’ ‘Central
Lake: Impediments,’ ‘I Leapt Over the Wall,’ ‘Maintenance,’ ‘O’Keeffe: She
Marries the Photographer Stieglitz,’ ‘Central Lake: Cottage,’ ‘Habitations:
Fire and Blood,’ ‘Central Lake: Sprouts,’ ‘A Mother Watches Her Athletic
Daughter,’ ‘Keeping Fit,’ ‘Arch,’ ‘O’Keeffe: She Learns to Walk,’ ‘Devil’s
Den,’ ‘What Your Eyes Have to See,’ ‘Sky Watch,’ ‘Chicken Willie’.
Paula Persoleo’s recent work has been accepted by Philadelphia
Stories, Mantis, and Tulane Review. In 2018, her poem “How We
Were, How We Are” was nominated for the Pushcart Prize by Beltway Poetry
Quarterly. She lives and works in Delaware.
paulapersoleo@yahoo.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 Wursthaus”
by Doug Holder
#092 April 4, 2019
“Original
Sin”
by Diane Lockward
#093 April 5, 2019
“A Father
Calls to his child on liveleak”
by Stephen Byrne
#094 April 8, 2019
“XX”
by Marc Zegans
#095 April 12, 2019
“Landscape
and Still Life”
by Marjorie Maddox
#096 April 16, 2019
“Strawberries
Have Been Growing Here for Hundreds of
Years”
by Mary Ellen Lough
#097 April 17, 2019
“The New
Science of Slippery Surfaces”
by Donna Spruijt-Metz
#098 April 19, 2019
“Tennessee
Epithalamium”
by Alyse Knorr
#099 April 20, 2019
“Mermaid,
1969”
by Tameca L. Coleman
#100 April 21, 2019
“How Do
You Know?”
by Stephanie
#101 April 23, 2019
“Rare Book
and Reader”
by Ned Balbo
#102 April 26, 2019
“THUNDER”
by Jefferson Carter
#103 May 01, 2019
“The sight
of a million angels”
by Jenneth Graser
#104 May 09, 2019
“How to
tell my dog I’m dying”
by Richard Fox
#105 May 17, 2019
“Promises
Had Been Made”
by Sarah Sarai
#106 June 01, 2019
“i sold
your car today”
by Pamela Twining
#107 June 02, 2019
“Abandoned
Stable”
by Nancy Susanna Breen
#108 June 05, 2019
“Cupcake”
by Julene Tripp Weaver
#109 June 6, 2019
“Bobby’s
Story”
by Jimmy Pappas
#110 June 10, 2019
“When You
Ask Me to Tell You About My Father”
by Pauletta Hansel
#111 Backstory of the
Poem’s
“Cemetery
Mailbox”
by Jennifer Horne
#112 Backstory of the Poem’s
“Relics”
by Kate Peper
#113 Backstory of the
Poem’s
“Q”
by Jennifer Johnson
#114 Backstory of the
Poem’s
“Brushing My Hair”
by Tammika Dorsey Jones
#115 Backstory of the
Poem
“Because the Birds Will
Survive, Too”
by Katherine Riegel
#116 Backstory of the Poem
“DIVORCE”
“DIVORCE”
by Joan Barasovska
#117 Backstory of the
Poem
“NEW
YEAR”S EVE 2016”
by Michael Meyerhofer
#118 Backstory of the
Poem
“Dear the
estranged,”
by Gina Tron
#119 Backstory of the Poem
“In
Remembrance of Them”
by Janet Renee Cryer
#120 Backstory of the
Poem
“Horse Fly
Grade Card, Doesn’t Play Well With Others”
by David L. Harrison
#121 Backstory of the
Poem
“My
Mother’s Cookbook”
by Rachael Ikins
#122 Backstory of the
Poem
“Cousins I
Never Met”
by Maureen Kadish
Sherbondy
#123 Backstory of the
Poem
“To Those
Who Were Our First Gods”
by Nickole Brown
#124 Backstory of the
Poem
“Looking For Sunsets (In the Early Morning)”
“Looking For Sunsets (In the Early Morning)”
by Paul Levinson
#125 Backstory of the
Poem
“Tracy”
by Tiff Holland
#126 Backstory of the
Poem
“Legs”
by Cindy Hochman
“Legs”
by Cindy Hochman
#127 Backstory of the
Poem
“Anathema”
“Anathema”
by Natasha Saje
#128 Backstory of the
Poem
“How to
Explain Fertility When an Acquaintance Asks Casually”
by Allison Blevins
#129 Backstory of the
Poem
“The Art of Meditation
In Tennessee”
by Linda Parsons
#130 Backstory of the
Poem
“Schooling
High, In Beslan”
by Satabdi Saha
#131 Backstory of the
Poem
““Baby Jacob survives the Oso Landslide, 2014”
by Amie Zimmerman
#132 Backstory of the
Poem
“Our Age
of Anxiety”
by Henry Israeli
#133 Backstory of the
Poem
“Earth
Cries; Heaven Smiles”
by Ken Allan Dronsfield
#134 Backstory of the Poem
“Eons”
by Janine Canan
#135 Backstory of the
Poem
“Sworn”
by Catherine Zickgraf
#136 Backstory of the
Poem
“Bushwick
Blue”
by Susana H. Case
#137 Backstory of the
Poem
“Then She
Was Forever”
