To register for the following class, go to www.lsswritingschool.com (Long Story Short School of Writing)

Modern Poetry: Broaching the Avant-Garde
Instructor: Jennifer Delaney

“Poetry is a way of taking life by the throat.”
- Robert Frost

Even if the subject matter of your poem is serious, I hope that this class will be liberating and enjoyable! A defining quality of modern poetry is rebellion against tradition and freedom from gentility; however, a well crafted modern poem is no less intelligent and refined than its more formal predecessors. Good poetry, written from the gut, delights and moves. Occasionally, a poem may be inspired and spontaneous and require little alteration; however, it is my experience that given time and tools, a poet can learn to differentiate that which is universal and powerful from what is mostly personal venting. While fewer rules govern this form and it is does not have the restraints of traditional poetry, that is not a justification for “anything goes.”

I will address concepts such as: stream of consciousness and surrealism as well as play with the elimination of punctuation and capitalization (although that is not a necessary rule of modern poetry). We will craft concrete poems, poems based on dreams as well as others that include free verse with internal rhyme schemes. You will have the option at any time to write a poem emulating the style of a poet.

I will recommend poets to read, because I believe it is important to absorb and analyze great poets in order to learn but also differentiate your own style. We will focus on the writing; but I will include in my e-mail lessons a few poems that relate to our exercise. Further recommended readings will be optional. These poets include (but are not limited to): e. e. cummings, Mary Oliver, Marge Piercy, Linda Pastan, George Herbert, Jarold Ramsey, Denise Levertov, Helen Chasin, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Theodore Roethke, Carl Sandburg and Guillaume Apollinaire.

Class structure: Every week you will be assigned to write a poem based on the theme and I will recommend poets to read who exhibit a similar style (or in some way reflect modernism). During our final week, you will pick a poem that you have written and rewrite it. I will offer suggestions regarding what feels “extra” or can be cut as well as pointing out the lines where you pulled up short and need to flesh out a metaphor. Poetry is subjective, yet often the response to a well written poem is universal.

TESTIMONIAL:
"This (class) was not at all what I expected . . . it was a zillion times better. I was anticipating the class was going to be more of a forum atmosphere, and I was thrilled to find out it was more one on one and done all via e-mail. I felt like I had a private coach! The poet bios were interesting and reading some of their work was very helpful, but by far the most valuable part of the class was your feedback on my poems. The only bad thing is that the class is over!" Karin (student in Modern Poetry - Broaching the Avant-Garde).

Jennifer Delaney's manuscript Stealing Monkey won Colorado University’s
Jovanovich Imaginative Award for best graduate thesis, as well as receiving finalist status in the Nidus Literary Journal Competition. After graduating from CU with a Masters in creative writing/English, she worked as a writing consultant for the CU math department and taught writing at Bixby Elementary School in Boulder. With B.A. degrees in English and dance from the University of California in Santa Barbara, Jennifer began her writing career in New York City where she worked as copy editor for a real estate publishing company, as well as The Diplomatic World News, a United Nations publication. In Los Angeles, she worked in marketing for three years. Jennifer writes for a monthly newspaper and her work has been published in newspapers, literary journals, ezines, and magazines as well as Lucia Capacchion’s The Creative Journal and Creative Journal for Teens. Jen's site: www.thewritersarbor.com

A more thoughtful rewrite of this may soon be published on Sol Books website. (I am waiting to hear.)

I wonder if occasionally you notice yourself experiencing a resistance to poetry, like I do... even while I love it. I mean, I think it is a large part of why some people don’t read it at all. It’s not always easily accessible. Like modern art, there are not always edges to hold onto and in a culture that can tend towards black and white, blurred boundaries or gray area can be disconcerting.

Using poetry as a metaphor for life, new territory brings up fears: Will I understand it or am I missing something? Why doesn’t this make sense? If the reader doesn’t learn to step outside their brain and reasoning, they will give up too soon, deeming the work inaccessible or too esoteric, when in fact they just don’t trust themselves to relax into a new place. New landscapes, whether in poetry or life, requires that we sit with it a while. Set aside all preconceived notions, be patient, and let it flow around and through you until you feel a shift. It might be subtle or like the light bulb that flashes on. Eventually you will be able to describe your impression – whether it is a unique or universal take on the poem. Or, occasionally, as only great art and deep religious experience can cause, you may be speechless and transformed without quite knowing how or why. And, you may be inspired to write a poem in a language only you can understand to convey the ineffable.

Finally, sometimes the poet hopes to convey a specific feeling or experience and share in the catharsis of being read and understood, but often the poem is just out of reach and open to interpretation. I celebrate poetry because I wonder how I would grow if I weren’t nudged outside of my own world and perspective.

Here is a poem of mine that was originally published in Colorado University's literary journal, Square One. I lived in NYC 5 years and it is my tribute after 9/11. Formatting was tricky, but essentially, this should appear as two columns.

City


In the cold quiet finger tip toe along the lifeline
of a moonless midnight stopping short too soon
You visit me. a lost black glove
Your streets are pressed into my feet kicked aside
like a message who had a hand in it?
wedged into a fist. This death
Round and round laying bare the foundation
needles on my soul the collective heart
play your sounds in people pouring
wax concentric circles: across the pavement
stilettos scrape cement in step
bells and horns and laughter shoulder to shoulder
like breaking glass dodging
screaming bag lady a million eyes darting
fights for her corner. scanning the sky
Irrevocable charisma searching for guideposts –
beast and diamond diva crushed signs,
assailant and saint forging a road
mood depending across the steps
or my place at the right time of ghosts
of crescendo that hover
inviting hearts to dine like an echo of falling bodies.
at your banquet. Jump to your death!
Descent: Run for your life!
hanging from a subway bar White sheath
my chest is smashed for the broken sword
against a stranger’s back glistening gone
rush hour soaked under the steady stream
rocking of a fire hose
caterpillar rising in memory
catapulted cloud of stench
surging, submerged larger than life
in the veins the will
straining at the turns longing to turn blood into wine
groaning kneeling at the feet of
scraping steel sparks time into understanding
the lunge irreversible truth
biting at the straightaway the battering, smattering
Emerging pieces of what remains; your
gush of air streets carve a map upon my feet
cutting winter smell urging me forward
bury my hands a little deeper like a mantra
pockets of light like a muscle
tracing a path too close to call it
safe.

Jennifer Svendsen Delaney

During the summer, other than early morning hours, it is hard for me to get any writing done because I'm interrupted by my 12 year old daughter for one reason or another. She's fairly independent but still requires attention, especially just when I am on a roll, completely immersed in writing a story or poem. Today she has a friend over and I am amazed at how much more I am accomplishing. The girls began with a slip and slide, then out came the soap and finally they found an inflatable chair that dulled the impact and took them a lot farther faster. I even managed to slip in a summer nap - one of those delicious face down snoozes across the chenille bedspread, with a breeze from the fan sweeping across my body. Of course I was awakened only 20 minutes into it. "Mom? Mom? Where are the potato chips?"

You can't plan life... you can try, but inevitably, it will redirect you. And anyway, some of the best moments with friends are the spontaneous encounters or last minute parties planned. This summer, I decided not to make plans in advance and decided almost last minute to attend two events; my travels took me from the streets of New York City to the verdant hills of Sheridan, Wyoming. In New York City, I attended the Backspace Writer’s Conference and learned so much about marketing and other topics. I have to admit though, the highlight of my trip was watching Kevin Spacey in Eugene O’Neill’s A Moon for the Misbegotten. His performance was powerful and quirky and I bought my ticket only hours before the show.

In Wyoming, my daughter, Bella, attended a week-long clinic with Buck Branamman (of horse whisperer fame). I decided last minute to drive up and observe. Talk about presence! If I imagined God as a person (which of course I don't) He would be a lot like Buck. Well, a combination of Buck and the Dali Lama. Branamman is opinionated, incisive, and right on when addressing the topic of horses – you can see the positive results of his recommendations right away. I got to know his wife, Mary when she joined me in the bleachers to observe. She is beautiful, personable and from the short time together it was clear she can definitely hold her own with Buck.

Seventy-two hours without cell coverage, computers, a shower... barefoot in my cowboy boots, the rain on the tent at night, washing my dishes and face in the stream... well, okay it was a ditch... all did my brain and soul so much good. To think I used to plan things all the time!