Let it Flow with Rukeyser

Muriel Rukeyser’s poem “Poem White Page White Page Poem” is one that I find very interesting. Rukeyser uses the metaphor of waves crashing on the beach to help her readers identify with the process of writing good poetry. In the process of discussing the writing of poetry, the reader is also given an example of what good poetry should look like. Through imagery, Rukeyser is sharing with her readers the process she uses to write her poetry, allowing the reader to think that they can also accomplish such a task (writing poetry).

To break down the poem, one finds that it stats with just a blank white page. The writer proceeds to allow emotions and thoughts to flow from his/her soul like “waves” which control the fingers that hold the pen. This first glimpse in the writing process illuminates the idea that good poetry writes itself. When good poetry writes itself, the poet is able to relate to the readers emotions through image, mood, and experience.

Rukeyser proceeds to tell that the process of the poem flowing from the author, it begins to “declare for my whole life,” the good and the bad. The ability to allow the poem to write itself makes the author vulnerable to his/her audience because giving emotions full control of the poem creates an alley for bottled up feelings to be released. These feelings can be of happy moments and moments of sorrow and anger, again creating relationships between the poet and the reader.

As “wave after wave that breaks on the beach” is the in relation to the process of not ending the poem until it ends itself. Once the waves stop crashing, the poem is over the author should not try to incorporate any more material or try to use intellect to finish the work. Once the waves have finished crashing and the poem ceases to flow from your soul, it should stand alone as a single work of art that is able to stand upon its own merits. Do not force poetry let it flow from the depths of your being.

            Instead of comparing Rukeyser’s poem with another on this post, I thought I would just share a poem with you that I wrote. I will not say that it is good or that it is a work of art (I don’t think the author should praise his/her own work) but I did sit and let it flow. Tell me what you think.

                                                Happy Birthday My Love

The children are quiet, no sounds to hear as I wake from an unrest-full sleep.

The smiles I am used to in the mornings are not to be found – just tears.

My love sits beside me, no hug, no kiss, no joy to be found – just tears.

The first words said are “I’m sorry.” Not what I expect after waking from sleep.

Confused, I inquire about the sorrow. No answer to be given – just tears.

After long pause, with heavy breath, my love pushes away the pain – but not the tears.

While the children are quiet, her soul is what I hear. I am no longer dazed by an unrest-full sleep.

She somberly tells me that this day of my birth has lost its joy – now just tears.

The birth expected will no longer come – we embrace – we pray – with tears.