How do you know when a poem is finished?
I don’t know if a poem is ever finished. What happens is the poet calls it done and moves on. You could spend your lifetime writing one novel or poetry collection, or a decade writing ten novels or collections. How much of a perfectionist are you? How done do you want to be before you move on? The beauty of doneness in poetry and the other arts is that it’s at least partially subjective. In the best circumstances, I feel an ending. It’s the same feeling as when you finish a life phase. It’s in your bones: Stop. It’s the same feeling that tells you to end a relationship, a night out, a collage. So, I would say to a student of writing, “Listen to yourself; listen to the poem.” In the worst circumstances, I don’t know when to end because I haven’t paid attention well enough, or I’m rushing to move on to something else or I go on for too long because I don’t want to start the next project. Then, I figure it out later. Or someone tells me. The good thing about writing a poem is that you can keep revising until you feel good about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment