IN PART 1 of this series, I explained the circumstances that started my onion poem.
In Part 2, I elucidated on the exegesis of the first part of the poem, lines 1-5.
I also said that poetry must go beyond mere description.
What’s been on my mind in most of September was teaching poetry online.
I have this crazy vision of ridding cyberspace of bad poetry.
But I know it’s impossible, so I toned down and just campaigned for better poetry.
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But how do you encourage people to write better poems if no one is teaching them good poetry?
If no one is correcting their mistaken notions and misconceptions of poetry?
Thus, the smart alecky poetry tips I wrote and popularized.
So, you may now understand the second movement of my onion poem, lines 6-10.
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CHOPPING POEMS WITH ONIONS
by Peter Solis Nery
One lazy, rainy September afternoon
I examined a bored bulb of onion, its
Roots white, withered, and hopeless, its
Outer skin dry, flaky, almost purple, not
As dark as the fleshy inner skin next to it. (5)
And I remembered how in school, we
Examine poetry, dissect it hopelessly
Like an onion: peeling it layer after layer
Looking for hidden meaning, trying to
Solve some supposed mystery. I groaned (10)
With the onion. Then, I smiled, shook my
Head, cut the bulb in halves, and sliced each
Mystery thinly. I inhaled the stinging smell
The layers no longer a puzzle, the pungent
Smell, pure essence. My tears began to form (15)
And I cried for all the little helpless poems
We so mercilessly chopped to death.
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My draft said: “I remember how/ in school, we examine poetry/ dissect it/ like onion/ peel it/ layer after layer/ for meaning/ solving for the mystery.”
Except for grammar decisions and corrections, there isn’t much change in the thought and order of words.
This is the point where I felt I have a real poem coming:
When after a slow and difficult start, ideas seem to just flow, and how fast!
The draft quickly evolved.
My proudest edits are “hidden meaning” and the alliteration in “solve some supposed” mystery.
From “solving for the mystery” to “solve some mystery” to (after the sixth reading) “solve some supposed mystery.”
I badly wanted to include ‘hidden’ and ‘supposed’ because that’s what bad literature teachers teach us about poetry.
They want us to look for the stupid hidden meanings.
They want us to solve some puzzle, some mystery that are supposedly hidden in plain sight in the words of the poem.
Baloney!
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As my onion poem shows, a poem doesn’t have to be a detective story.
It investigates an onion and our study of poems all right, but there’s nothing deceptive or secretive about it. No games played. No jigsaw puzzle or riddle to solve.
I really think that a good poem isn’t a game of breaking a Da Vinci code.
Rather, it is the experience of something, the experience of decoding and discovering Da Vinci (whatever that is) line by line.
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On Facebook, my poem is highly praised for its simplicity, and great, unencumbered beauty.
One reader exclaimed, “A blind man can see onions just listening to your words!!!”
Another said, “Wow! Love the way you compose a poem—very natural, simple, but awesome.”
Still another said, “You can feel the poem, and it’s not just some (blind) poet imagining things.”
And another, “Genius! You make onions sound so… sexy!”
So yeah, I have a big quarrel with fartsy poems trying to hide the meaning from their readers.
My thoughts: Bad poets hide the meaning because they can’t say the meaning clearly enough.
Why light a candle if you are going to hide them under the bed?
Why write a poem if you just want to keep your readers in the dark?
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I write pretty straightforward poems.
And they are beautiful.
They are liked.
Readers respond to them.
If readers can’t understand my poems, I know they are stupid readers.
Because how can people not understand simple?
But if I can’t understand a poem, I call the other poets stupid.
Because how can they not write simply and clearly?
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The goal of poetry is communication, plain and simple.
That, and some musicality.
Let’s talk about alliteration, consonance, and assonance in my next column. (To be continued/PN)
