“I like the sound of my poems.” Owen Dunkle told me at Sacred Grounds. I think we all like the sound of our poems and the sound of our own voice, otherwise we won’t be signing up for open mikes. Beyond sharing what we have written, it is important to “sound them out”, as HD Moe likes to say. It’s a sure way to find out if a poem has rhythm and flow. Some poets even edit their poems while they are reading on stage.
The ability to read well, I think, is an important tool for a poet. One night at Sacred Grounds, Bill Mercer decided to recite Yeats’ The Song of Wandering Aengus. His recital brought the house down. At the break I saw Fiona, the owner of the cafe. She stopped me and asked what Bill was reading.
“I didn’t understand the words, but I felt his emotion rushed at me. So powerful that I had to listen.” Fiona put her hand over her heart. She is an immigrant from Hong Kong and speaks limited English. But I know she gets the poem.
The sound is the essential. Poetry: the art that exploits the music intrinsic to language through the precise composition of the image. Music is the primary component. All true poets are musicians.
Yes, music of the word; in the word. One of the things that happen when I read a poem, if it is not a workshop piece or something like that but one where the inspiration struck and the words flowed onto the page, is that the dreamlike inspirational imagery plays out all over again and I see, again, where I was and what and how the poem happened. That unseen and unheard of aspect of reading poems aloud to people is one of the precious joys of the craft. And it happens very intensely when I read to people, much less so if I am reading aloud to myself for a rehearsal say.
In music-timing.Maybe also,acting.If I sound good to myself,I think good things are happening.