Hi, and thanks for reading! Today is Monday, so we’re going to talk about poetry.
If you want to go directly to the poetry exercise, and skip all this “recipe blog” backstory, scroll to the next subhead.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day, which comes second only to Valentine’s Day for its per-capita, one-day influx of poets and poetry. I wrote a very sincere (but not poetic) message to my mom on Facebook, and in a (non-rhyming, but cute) card that I gave her. I have written poems to and for and about my mom, but I didn’t even consider writing her one for Mother’s Day. I never do.
The thing is, my brother won this contest years ago. He’s perfected the art form and I cannot recover. It’s a little embarrassing since I’m supposed to be “the poet of the family,” but I am willing to admit when I am bested.
When my brother was around eight years old, he was tasked with writing a Mother’s Day acrostic in school. This is the perfect piece of art that he produced.
Makes me food. Offers me the food. The one person who does not like dogs. Has a lot of money. Eats in often. Rats will stay away while you are around.
A stunning portrait of the generosity of spirit and selfless sacrifice that “motherhood” evokes, which also reflects the unique facets of our mother’s personality. Making and offering food, eating in so she can offer us her bounty of prepared meals – that’s mom! She DOES have a lot of money. She DOES dislike dogs (well, historically, she does, but now she has a cute dog of her own and they are in love). And have I ever seen her near a rat? Not once!
I love this poem, partially because it’s so funny and silly, but also because it totally captures my brother’s comedic voice (scarily developed at such a young age!) while still meeting the assignment’s parameters. Acrostic poems are often seen as the stuff of third-grade language arts assignments, but grown-ups can play around with them too. Today’s exercise is inspired by this.
We’ve talked previously about abecedarian poems, and the level of flexibility that such a restrained form gives us (counterintuitive, I know!). Expect a similar vibe when we approach acrostics today.
This sort of “nesting,” containing meaning within other meanings, is the sort of trickery a lot of people associate with poetry. But you can also think of it as giving an answer key! I think it’s pretty obvious that my brother’s poem “mother” is about our mom. Maybe you want to use a word as your “spine” that contrasts with the language you’re using. Hey, maybe you don’t have a great relationship with your mom – maybe she attracts rats! – and you want your poem to reflect that. Maybe you want to use your own name, and express aspects of yourself that often go unrecognized. Maybe you want to tack your letters to the end of each line, or even format this as a prose poem, so it’s not as immediately obvious that it’s an acrostic. That’s totally up to you!
Here’s a great example of an acrostic that does new/exciting/intelligent things. Joy Harjo wrote "An American Sunrise,” which doesn’t look like an acrostic at first. But look at the last words of each line. This type of poem is broadly known as a Golden Shovel; characteristic of these poems, Harjo interpolates a section of “We Real Cool,” by Gwendolyn Brooks, which puts those two poems in conversation with each other. Our approach today will be informed by Golden Shovels.
Exercise: Acrostic Acrobatics
Pick a “spine” for your acrostic. Now, for today’s exercise, I think you should approach your acrostic one of two ways.
(Traditional) use the first letters of each line to spell out a word
(SPICY) use the first words of each line to spell out a phrase (another line of poetry, a movie title, a song lyric, anything!)Write out your “spine” on the left-hand side of a piece of paper (or word doc). You can change the formatting around later. On the bottom of the page or a piece of scrap paper, try free-associating some words that you associate with your “spine.” The more words, the better; you’re filling a “bank” to draw from.
Once you have words or phrases that you want to “attach” to your spine, try creating odd pairings. Maybe you’re writing about your cat (let’s say her name is…DOTTIE) and you want to write about her ears. Your instinct might be “Hey, E is for ‘ears!’" but you could also say “Intent on seeking out each sound” or “Tuned in to the world around her/Twin triangles radar the room.”
If you want one or two lines to be one-word lines, go for it. Sometimes a standalone word can serve as another anchor/touchstone for your poem. Maybe it’s something that’s totally opposite the spine; maybe it’s something that’s another interpretation of the word or phrase you chose.
Here’s an example of an acrostic(ish) poem I wrote. After my friend Ilya passed away, I wrote this poem in his memory, using lines from a song called “The Pebble and the Man” by Bridget St. John. “Thought is just a little boat upon the sea” and “Everybody is a part of everything anyway” appear in the starting lines of this poem. I also drew a lot of inspiration from the poem Wild, by Marlon Hacla. I’ll include an embed of the song for you below my poem.
And here’s the song that inspired it. I hope it’s helpful as you’re writing this week!