Skip to main content

The Art of the Short Poem: Justifying the White Space


The white space simmers around its poem.  "Make me make you profound," it hisses to the ink.  "Otherwise, stick with prose and fill me from margin to margin."

The blank page is the poet's most severe judge.  When it comes to writing a poem - especially a short poem - one must justify the space in which the poem is captured.  The poet should ask, "Am I serving the page well as its single representative?"  A great weight of expectation rides on the short poem.  

Here are some of my favourite short poems that entirely justify the space around them:



Mrs Darwin
By Carol Ann Duffy

7 April 1852

Went to the Zoo.
I said to Him—
Something about that Chimpanzee over there reminds me of you.



non-creation vs. creation
By Kat 

Obsessed with creation - the idea of it. 
So quick to define, title and sculpt.
But, what if you waited.
Don't create. 
Just wait.
See what emerges.



Haiku 
By Billy Collins

Mid-winter evening,
alone at a sushi bar—
just me and this eel.



Taking a headbutt
By William Letford

your pal ruffled ma hat
i said, what? made the mistake of leaning forward
and that was that

blood-metal darkness and the taste of brass
the bell was rung
i know i went somewhere
because i had to come back



Garden
By Sam Willetts

Look to your life.
Rest your kindness
and your unkindness
now, and listen: I know
what makes your heart
clench coldly
in all weathers,
I know how it feels
that it always will.
Bear that. Look to your life,
to your one given garden.



And finally one of mine:



An Alternative to Winning the Euromillions 
By Tom Wiggins 

Grow a money tree
so neighbours crave for Autumn's
benevolent breeze.

Comments

  1. This made me smile and nod in agreeance, good selection also!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Letter Carving Workshop is Now Open for Business!

Life-living letter carver, carve me a letter crisp on my headstone and fill it with wonder I'd like to carve it, but you would do better, for you stand above this earth and I am laid under. - Tom Wiggins My new letter carving workshop is now open for business.  Taking bespoke commissions such as memorials (including headstones and cremation tablets), opening plaques and heraldry.  If you're looking for fine hand-carved lettering designed and carved by a fully trained stonemason and letter carver, please get in touch.   I'd be very happy to talk you through the process from design stage right through to installation.  Telephone: 07791969667 E-mail: tomwiggins86@gmail.com Website: www.tomwiggins.co.uk A bit about me:  Born and raised in Gloucester, I now live and work as a letter carver in the beautiful market town of Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire.  My journey in stone began in 2013 with a three-year Diploma in Stonemasonry at The City of Bath College. Th...

G-Dog Advises Me to Go Big on the Blackberries - a Tommy & Moon Story

It was a few weeks into autumn and I hadn’t had a hair cut since before the summer solstice.  My beard, long and straggly and in desperate need of trimming, was a week away from having birds nest in it.  I unpolished my boots and wore some old jeans that were ripped at the knees and dirty from digging a deep hole on a particularly wet day in Highgate Cemetery.  Hanging loosely over the top of those was a baggy grey jumper I spilt half a bottle of bleach over about three years ago.  I looked a bit of a state, but there was a method to my madness.  Today was the day I was going to ask Moon for a pay rise and I wanted to look as if I’d been trod on. On the morning I was due to ask him, my bike got a puncture not twenty yards down the road from my house. It wasn’t a polite slow puncture so that I might finish my journey on a squidgy but rideable front tyre; the thorn tore through that poor inner tube like a javelin through jelly and it had me riding on a stee...

Norman MacCaig: Poetry Hero

I cannot say exactly when I first discovered Norman MacCaig.  It may have been at the beginning of this year, but could well have been at the end of last.  I found him through a tweet.  Six months or more is a long time on Twitter, and when tweets get to a certain age, they're as stubbornly elusive as a missing person who wants to stay missed. But I know the tweet was left by poet  Jo Bell , the director of National Poetry Day, and whose wonderful blog can be found  here .  The link she left took me to an enthralling 25-minute interview with MacCaig.  I liked the man instantly.  I replied to Jo by saying what how charming MacCaig was.  He had a warm sparkle in his eye that only Scots seem to have access to.  He epitomised charismatic.  Unfortunately, embedding has been disabled on the video, but it can be found  here .  Fast forward to yesterday.  I was sat in Stanman's Kitche...