Lynne Jensen Lampe : part five

When you require renewal, is there a particular poem or book that you return to? A particular author?

Recently, we felt out of hope at our house and pulled out a couple of Mary Oliver books to soak in her nature poems. She’s not a poet I read very much, but we definitely needed her poems then. One of my favorite poems is from Dorianne Laux’s Facts About the Moon. I love the simplicity and grace of the language as well as the varied sentence length. I’m drawn to it because I see myself in every line, especially “I never wondered. I read.”

Moon in the Window

I wish I could say I was the kind of child
who watched the moon from her window,
would turn to it and wonder.
I never wondered. I read. Dark signs
that crawled toward the edge of the page.
It took me years to grow a heart
from paper and glue. All I had
was a flashlight, bright as the moon,
a white hole blazing beneath the sheets.

Lynne Jensen Lampe : part four

Why is poetry important?

It’s important to me personally because it’s the only place I am completely honest about who I am and what I’ve experienced—I have a contract with the poem to be forthright and unapologetic. In a larger sense, a poem links poet and reader; the writing and reading both lead to connections that resonate in a way that feels unexpected yet universal. With details (whether real or imagined), a poem can convey the intricacies of current events or personal histories—and a good poem will keep the reader from shutting down or rejecting the truth. Poetry invites us to challenge convention by raising questions no one’s thought to ask and by reveling in new forms, unusual sounds and syntax, and various visual formats. No matter where a poem lands on the narrative-lyric continuum, its storytelling, word play, and emotion link us to previous generations, to our humanity. 

Lynne Jensen Lampe : part three

What other poetry books have you been reading lately?

There are so many good ones! Three-Penny Memories by Barbara Harris Leonhard and A Map of Every Undoing by Alicia Elkort (both books are debuts). Outskirts by Heathen, Partial Genius by Mary Biddinger, River Inside the River by Gregory Orr, Wiregrass by Moira J. Saucer.

Lynne Jensen Lampe : part two

What poets changed the way you thought about writing?

One of the first poets I studied with was Larry Levis. He taught me that it’s not enough for a poem to set a scene—it needs to take the reader on a journey of emotion, realization, recognition. From Dorianne Laux I learned that the process of writing can be playful and saw the depth conveyed when a poet writes about ordinary things. Gregory Orr, through his craft book A Primer for Poets & Readers of Poetry, taught me about order and disorder in poetry, our natural desire for balance between these opposites, and how each person has a different threshold for the shift from one to the other. (That teaching greatly affected the poems in Talk Smack to a Hurricane, my book about my mother’s mental illness—the more chaotic the content, the more I considered what and how much structure was needed.) As a result of Kim Addonizio’s poetry and her craft book Ordinary Genius, I realized there’s freedom in candor, regardless of the topic. I’ve learned new ways to start a poem. I now search for energy and emotional truth as it unfolds. Richard Hugo, in Triggering Town, his book of lectures and essays, taught me that the inspiration (trigger) for a poem is only sometimes what the poem is really about. Ed Skoog taught a whole class on taking the “side door” into poems—I learned to open myself to unexpected topcs and odd juxtapositions. He offered a new revision strategy: Alphabetize a poem’s lines according to the first word of each, then look for new connections or directions (I find this works best with poems of 20–30 lines or so). Rosebud ben Oni, in workshop and through her poetry, taught me that my purpose in writing is to tell my story and no one else’s—if someone’s missing from the conversation, I need to work to make space for their words, not speak for them. There’s too much I’ll never understand even though I want to. Through her book Odes to Lithium, Shira Ehrlichman showed me the power of a full poetry collection on psychiatric issues; it gave me the courage to build a manuscript of poems I’d written about my mother’s mental illness, our relationship, and psychiatry. 

Lynne Jensen Lampe : part one

Lynne Jensen Lampe’s debut collection, Talk Smack to a Hurricane (Ice Floe Press, 2022) concerns mother-daughter relationships, mental illness, and antisemitism. Her poems appear in many journals, including THRUSH, Figure 1, and Yemassee. A finalist for the 2020 Red Wheelbarrow Poetry Prize and Best of the Net nominee, she lives with her husband and two dogs in mid-Missouri, where she edits academic research. Visit her at https://lynnejensenlampe.com; on Twitter @LJensenLampe; or IG @lynnejensenlampe. 

How do you know when a poem is finished?

It depends on the poem. In general, a poem is done when I read it aloud and feel the energy in my voice stay strong until the last word. Sometimes I can feel that in my body, other times I need to listen to a recording. Conversely, I know a poem needs work when I hear or sense a vocal weakness, a softness that doesn’t derive from the content. Places I stumble over words. The revision and just sitting with the poem can take months. A few times, though, I needed to write a quick draft in time for my critique group, think I have nothing like an actual poem, and they tell me to send it out. Or I submit a poem over and over, all of a sudden decide to change the last word, and the next journal accepts it.