For most writers I know, the time to sit down and
put pen to paper, without interruption, is a luxury. I work full-time
and am very busy as husband and father. When I have time, I'm often
tired or can't concentrate and want to go to the gym or for a run. This
limitation of time is also a gift as it helps to focus the mind and
value the solitary act of creation. Much of what I write is completed
in stages and fragments rather than in long sessions. Perhaps this is why I
enjoy writing micropoems and the short form.
I don’t have a standard writing
day or any particular routines. However, I find time, even if it just for a few
minutes, to record images or phrases that surface on a daily basis. Is that a
routine? Perhaps. I also edit, looking over existing pieces and have a
drawn-out process of revision. A poem will go through several drafts and edits
in pads, on scraps of paper, or on my phone, until it gets to the first
'proper' test – typing it up and printing off to see what it looks like in
print. On a computer screen or printed sheet, it becomes much easier
to see the shape and character of a poem - how it looks and how
precise it is in regard to phrasing and layering. Most pieces will undergo a
dozen drafts and then get tinkered around with until I am reasonably happy.
There is a myth about poetry that
is should pour forth and be uncorrupted by the rational mind. When you read
about the lives of established, canonical poets, you quickly realise
they were crafters and grafters, with poets, such as Robert Graves, Dylan
Thomas and Vernon Watkins revising drafts of poems hundreds of times and
altering their work over decades.
My first collection 'Origin: 21
Poems' was worked on over the space of a year in time for my 40th birthday. I
got myself into a routine of work each night on paper and on the computer. This
was in the attic, which is always one of the most poetic locations. I wrote
pieces, such as 'Origin', 'Green Man', 'Footprints' and
'Hesperides' at the top of the house, in company with bookshelves, my children's
neglected toys and boxes of Christmas decorations, with windows ajar
through all the seasons; blisteringly hot weather, lashing rain and the
chilly days we know so well in South Wales. My mind reached for words to
describe conjured, sequential images around poetic themes.
I’ve written more recent work at
my writing desk in the lounge - a brown bureau, packed with pens,
cartridges, books and little objects to fidget with. I have a mini Yoda, part
of a deer antler, mini-cases of fossils and gems, poetry by Wallace
Stevens and R.S. Thomas and assorted bric-a-brac. I
also write at the dining table, on the sofa, in bed or on the
back-door step overlooking my garden, with a sea view.
Getting out is a must. I find
the inspiration to write anywhere - car parks on a work break, shops
and cafes, long walks or trips on holidays. I spent a day walking through
Gower last year – over twenty miles - and wrote pages and pages of notes that
resulted in prose-poetry about neolithic ruins and ancient remains. Another hike
to caves in Gower led to a number of deep time-themed poems. I recently
visited the Mendip hills and wrote notes on my phone and took pictures
to prompt writing. Oddly, I remember where most of my poems were
written, whereas other memories quickly disappear. Research goes hand-in-hand
with the writing process and I'm always reading to ensure accuracy of
ideas and looking for better words to use.
I leave poems for days, weeks,
sometimes months, and this is always a healthy process as I feel I can become more
objective about my work. I’m pretty ruthless and a lot gets culled. I send
almost-final proofs to a small group of writer friends, who are
constructive and honest. My work also gets road-tested at open
mic nights in Neath and Swansea and the process of reading out work
publicly aids the process of critical reflection.
I'm heading towards
writing more poetic prose and this requires a more focused approach with
time dedicated to longer pieces. I hope that I can find time to focus on this
as I have a hybrid collection of prose, poetry and photos that I
desperately want to develop having published part of this with Icefloe Press
for their Geographies project.
I've edited Black Bough poetry for
a year. This micropoetry project was started online to create another platform
for poets and to focus on the short poetry, inspired by imagism.
This provides a break from my own writing and allows me to
develop greater sharpness in my own work.
I would encourage all poets who
are really serious about the craft to experience being an editor and
also to be open to feedback and edits on their own work. A stubborn
attitude to feedback prevents growth. Wide reading is essential
as various poets I know stick to the same authors or types of poetry.
The smallest changes can really heighten the potency and impact of work.
The Soft Fall of Midnight
I know the soft fall of midnight:
the film of dew on dark buds’ lips
a scent of lavender pressed underfoot
the celestial stream in the shallow brook
the pulsing throb of turning carp
in slick pool below willow’s dark
the fox’s tread and backward stare
the owl’s descent in the thicket’s air
hear the hush of shrouded hills
a quickening wind in star-filled fields
a curve of dawn in eastern light
drink the bitter wine of night
First published in Other Terrain, Dec 2019.
Matthew M. C. Smith is a Welsh poet from
Swansea. He studied a PhD in Robert Graves and Celticism
and is published in Anti-Heroin Chic, Fly on the Wall Press,
Icefloe Press, Other Terrain, Back Story and Wellington Street
Review. He is the editor of www.blackboughpoetry.com Twitter:
@MatthewMCSmith FB: @MattMCSmith
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