Finding the Poem (3)

The well is deep. Beneath the surface, poems wait. But to loosen right-brain creativity from left-brain restraints and reveal what they want you to find out takes time.

Away from interruptions, put pen to paper and begin writing down nonstop—a half hour at least—whatever trickles across your mind. The first several lines will be banal: “I am looking through the open window. I see skinny grey clouds passing above. The breeze is chilly. I should have put on my sweater....”

Don’t judge. Keep writing. Let the thoughts eddy wherever they will. Don’t stop and try to edit. Just write. Let every word spill over. Without conscious left-brain interference, the stream, no matter how bizarre it may seem, will rise and build momentum. Go with it. Record whatever washes up through your mind, for as long as your hand can grasp the pen.

Then put the pages aside and walk away. Reset your mind with a change of scene.

When you return, reread. Amidst the messy scrawl, if the lucidity or freshness of certain passages catches your attention, copy them onto a new sheet of paper. Don’t worry if they feel disjointed. These are a first rough draft of the poem that waited to be written, which now your analytical left brain can gradually help your right brain to reshape and refine.