Archive for the 'Spalding University' Category

Poetry as Medicine

Poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost…as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.” ~ Mary Oliver

There has been a great deal of discussion regarding the healing power of writing and reading poetry. Once again, I was reminded of this in a newly-released book called, Saved By A Poem: The Transformative Power of Words, by Kim Rosen. In her books, Rosen claims that a poem can be powerful medicine not only for the mind but for the body and soul as well. She has learned by heart more than a hundred poems, which she carries inside of her as teachers, healers and guides.

Rosen was recently interviewed by Alison Luterman in the Sun Magazine (December 2010) and I found it fascinating. She discussed the public’s sensibility about poetry and many of her ideas resonated with me in the sense that many are threatened or afraid of poetry. Part of her motivation for compiling her recent collection was to wake Americans up to the power of poetry as a way to enrich our lives. She talks about poetry as a lantern that shines in dark places within us and refers to poems as powerful medicine for personal transformation.

“To me a good poem is like a sacred mind-altering substance: you take it into your system, and it carries you beyond your ordinary ways of understanding,” she says. “Like a shaman’s drum, the best of a poem can literally entrain the rhythms of your body: your heartbeat, your breath, even your brain waves, altering consciousness.”

Perie Longo, PhD, MFT, Santa Barbara’s former Poet Laureate, who held several board positions for the National Association for Poetry Therapy also wrote a wonderful article on the subject called, “Healing Effects of Poetry.” Longo says that “the focus of poetry for healing is connection to the individual for self-expression and growth, whereas the focus of poetry as art is the poem itself. But both use the same tools and techniques; the end product is often the same.” Longo teaches poetry for healing and in her classes has many tips to help spark the writing process. She suggests to her class to begin with the phrase, “I have the right…”The article is filled with lots of useful information.

http://www.allthingshealing.com/Psychotherapy/Healing-Effects-of-Poetry/6350

As a teen, I wrote poetry inspired by reading the works of Rod McKuen, but really did not return to the genre until my 40s while raising children and feeling some strong emotions pertaining to child-rearing and life in general. What really inspired me to begin again was attending a reading by Billy Collins in 2002 during my MFA in Writing at Spalding University in Louisville, Kentucky. I realized how accessible and funny narrative poetry could be. I laughed and cried listening to Billy read. I went home that night and wrote my first poem about how men love watching women park because they think we don’t know how to drive.

Since then I have incorporated writing poetry into my journaling classes. The holiday season is a wonderful time to bring poetry into your life to help cope with the stresses that accompany it. Try it and I bet you will like itTry it you will like it!

Forgetfulness

I wrote this blog in honor of my cousin, Jed’s 55th birthday. (Happy Birthday, Jed!)

Most of my favorite poems are found on the pages of Billy Collins’s poetry collections. So many of his sentiments and images resonate with me. If I had to chose one poem to share, it would be, “Forgetfulness.” The main reason is that this poem inspired me to rediscover the poet in me who had been dormant since childhood.

This is how it happened. It was 2003 or 2004, and I was in the charter class of Spalding University’s low-residency program, working on my MFA. Our class was invited to a Billy Collins reading at a neighboring university. It was just after Billy completed his term as Poet Laureate of the United States. The university auditorium was packed and Billy read many poignant poems, including “Forgetfulness.”

I vividly remember chuckling to myself throughout his entire reading. It was just about the time of my fiftieth birthday and I was beginning to forget more than I remembered. Billy received a lot of laughs during his reading, but with an audience filled with baby boomers, I think he got the most chuckles while reading this poem. If you have ever heard Billy read, you understand his talent and dry voice. In his poem, “Forgetfulness,” he incorporates his classic teasing technique told in a conversational and accessible manner. His imaging is extremely clever and it continues to resonate with me this many years after that first discovery.

I rarely will choose to spend the time to stand in line for an author signings, but after Billy’s reading, I purchased all his books piled all the way up to my chin and decided to wait for his signature on each one.  I didn’t care how long it took me to reach the front of the line. I knew that his reading would launch the new poet in me and I wanted to avail myself of the opportunity to read the poems of a giant.

You can hear him read on u-tube or you can read it here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrEPJh14mcU

Forgetfulness

The name of the author is the first to go

followed obediently by the title, the plot,

the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel

which suddenly becomes one you have never read,

never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor

decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,

to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye

and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,

and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,

the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,

it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,

not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river

whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,

well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those

who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night

to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.

No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted

out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.