To dip into a book of poems or immerse oneself completely will depend upon what is unfolding around me. I love to sit down over a few days and read a collection. I will write out the beautiful phrases or choice of words into my writers note book, place sticky notes on the poems I resonate with, and read again the poems that make me stop and let myself be touched once more.
Or, like tonight, when it is late, I will pick up the book on my bedside desk and read just one poem. I may underline, with a pencil, a word or phrase, or put a star on the page.
When I read poems I don't understand, I read them again, (unless I just don't like the style) and I will pause, knowing I don't understand and wonder what is being said and why it confuses me. I'll read it again to see if something is revealed...and then let it go. I give it some space.
Give poems some space. Savour them. Read them out loud. Hold them close. Maybe even learn them off by heart or at least read them to the forest or the clouds. Then, let them go.
Hmmmm.... depends on my mood, the space I'm in - the poet but I often use the method that a Persian friend recommended while reading Hafiz, "ask a question and then open the book."
Pádraig, I am in awe at the special relationship you describe with Bryan. I love your description of how you would wait, study, savor, and read his letters. And I bet your letters to him were a gift in what must have been a quiet life in the wilderness. It inspires me to find a pen pal. I had a pen pal once in grade school as part of a class activity. I had hoped for a pal in Europe, but was connected to one on the same continent, from Nova Scotia. I was disappointed, and didn’t keep it up. I should have appreciated this opportunity more.
I love everything about your tea and glee and suggestions for reading Padraig. Now here's my advice to someone as to how to approach a book of poems: Throw out everything Padraig recommended and be a Scanner like me. Flip through the whole thing quickly get a sense of poem lengths and spaces on a.page. Let one that catches your eye stop you. Read it Read it again. Flip again.
Read first poem. Read last poem. Flip again
Settle in a bit Flip a few more times. Let it rest. When you pick it up again find the poems you first found like they are old friends. Flip again to find more friends
I always think the beauty of a book of poems is that you can continually dip in - when you have little time in your busy lives a poem can be read and revive you a little - I feel certain that there are poems in the collections I love that I haven’t read! I guess the only real advice I’d give is find what connects - there will always be one or two poems that move you and if that’s in a different way than the author intended- so much the better!
When I asked a friend the question “How to read a book of poetry? “ she shared :
How to Eat a Poem- by Eve Merriam
In 'How to Eat a Poem ', Eve Merriam uses eating fruit as a metaphor for reading poetry. The idea is that we can approach poetry like we approach food. That is, to bite in without hesitation and enjoy it. The words of poetry can be placed into the mouth.
How To Eat A Poem
Don't be polite. Bite in. Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are. You do not need a knife or fork or spoon or plate or napkin or tablecloth. For there is no core or stem or rind or pit or seed or skin to throw away.
In addition to all the advice I’m sure will be given by poetry-learned folks here, I’ll offer something simple I do many mornings.
Prepare yourself like you’re about to enter a sacred space. (put any phone computer type devices in another room altogether or powered off). Step away from the ordinary. Take a few conscious, perhaps fuller than usual breaths to help you slow down. Pick up your chosen book. Let it touch your body, wherever you like - chest, belly, (just please not your feet)... so the book feels the movement of your breath, so your breath mingles with the book. Then, holding the book between your hands, if comfortable, allow your eyes to close. Sense what you sense between your hands. See if you can enter into the sensing, without trying too hard to “feel something.” Just let it come. No need to know anything. No need to label anything. There is nothing to understand. Then, with eyes still closed, or open, flip through the pages and as if about to “receive a reading”, like a Tarot, cowry shell, tea leaves,... let yourself land on a page, open your eyes if they were still closed, see your poem, and start to read. Silently, aloud, try both. See what is there for you. After your reading, sit quietly, eyes closed again if comfortable, and notice what lingers.
-
If you have time, you can now go back to the beginning, start over, and follow all of Pádraig’s instructions. :)
I have had a copy of Poetry Unbound on my side table for two Christmases now. I have not read it all. One week I’ll engage with two, maybe even three. Then two or even three months will go by before I pick it up again. I enjoy knowing it’s there even when I’m not reading in it.
I like Richard’s previous comment about ‘dipping in.’ I still struggle with more poems than I don’t so I need to leave and come back. Most books of poetry I’ve bought have been because I’ve liked the cover, the way the book was made, the paper it was printed on, its size. I usually start with the book. Go to the poems. End up with the poet. Backwards I’m sure. Fun nonetheless. Enjoy whatever reading you do today and in the following week. Thank you once again Padraig for your inspiration.
Everyone has lovely suggestions. I like to stay open to what the poems remind me of. If I read a poem in a collection and if it reminds me of another piece I allow time and space to hunt down the other poem. Then I can read them together and hear different authors have a conversation about something.
What is so lovely about a poem is that it asks to be read again. We can so easily comply. A poem is not meant to be read once but reading once we sometimes know if we will read again, even before we’re through it the first time. A poem creates questions in the reader and sometimes that is the invitation to multiple readings. A poem is a marker in time--the time of its creation, the time of its own speaking, and the moment of our meeting. A poem is a conversation that continues with each reading, and that conversation moves in a book of poems.
So give a book of poems an opportunity by starting. It will ask you to respond, but first you have to listen.
Dear Padraig, thank you for the phrase “an elegant enough!”
My approach to a book of poems may not be sound advice, but the truth is that I open it at random to read by chance.
Having been schooled on anthologies, it -- I am embarrassed to confess -- never occurred to me that the poet or the editor of the volume had continuity in mind.
Going forward, I will consider the story of the volume and also read through the organization of poems from start to finish -- probably after I open at random and read by chance.
I love to read, and take in information best by reading. What I love about Poetry Unbound is that is has given me the opportunity to experience poetry in an aural way. I like the set up - listen to the poem fresh, learn more about it and the author and what they might be trying to convey, then the chance to listen again. When there is a poem I really like, I then take time to also read it. Thank you.
I like to create an open-spaced room in my Imaginarium. I have a comfy chair, a quiet dog , maybe a fire going. The air has an expanded freshness to it and an almost audible tingle. Now I can bring it on home
Abundant thanks for this...from a reader as well as a writer. Not least of the wisdom is a felt sense from this post that I need to respect how I find my way. I can only read a poem or two at a time...receiving, savoring. More even than the how-to, is the implicit permission to do things the way you need to do things.
To dip into a book of poems or immerse oneself completely will depend upon what is unfolding around me. I love to sit down over a few days and read a collection. I will write out the beautiful phrases or choice of words into my writers note book, place sticky notes on the poems I resonate with, and read again the poems that make me stop and let myself be touched once more.
Or, like tonight, when it is late, I will pick up the book on my bedside desk and read just one poem. I may underline, with a pencil, a word or phrase, or put a star on the page.
When I read poems I don't understand, I read them again, (unless I just don't like the style) and I will pause, knowing I don't understand and wonder what is being said and why it confuses me. I'll read it again to see if something is revealed...and then let it go. I give it some space.
Give poems some space. Savour them. Read them out loud. Hold them close. Maybe even learn them off by heart or at least read them to the forest or the clouds. Then, let them go.
Hmmmm.... depends on my mood, the space I'm in - the poet but I often use the method that a Persian friend recommended while reading Hafiz, "ask a question and then open the book."
“How should I go about reading a book of poems?”
Slow down.
Be still.
Watch for what shimmers for you that day.
(It may be different another day.)
Sit with it for a bit.
Read it again and aloud.
Ruminate.
Chew on it and digest it.
Journal your own thoughts, poems, and prayers.
Give thanks. 🙏
Pádraig, I am in awe at the special relationship you describe with Bryan. I love your description of how you would wait, study, savor, and read his letters. And I bet your letters to him were a gift in what must have been a quiet life in the wilderness. It inspires me to find a pen pal. I had a pen pal once in grade school as part of a class activity. I had hoped for a pal in Europe, but was connected to one on the same continent, from Nova Scotia. I was disappointed, and didn’t keep it up. I should have appreciated this opportunity more.
I love everything about your tea and glee and suggestions for reading Padraig. Now here's my advice to someone as to how to approach a book of poems: Throw out everything Padraig recommended and be a Scanner like me. Flip through the whole thing quickly get a sense of poem lengths and spaces on a.page. Let one that catches your eye stop you. Read it Read it again. Flip again.
Read first poem. Read last poem. Flip again
Settle in a bit Flip a few more times. Let it rest. When you pick it up again find the poems you first found like they are old friends. Flip again to find more friends
I always think the beauty of a book of poems is that you can continually dip in - when you have little time in your busy lives a poem can be read and revive you a little - I feel certain that there are poems in the collections I love that I haven’t read! I guess the only real advice I’d give is find what connects - there will always be one or two poems that move you and if that’s in a different way than the author intended- so much the better!
When I asked a friend the question “How to read a book of poetry? “ she shared :
How to Eat a Poem- by Eve Merriam
In 'How to Eat a Poem ', Eve Merriam uses eating fruit as a metaphor for reading poetry. The idea is that we can approach poetry like we approach food. That is, to bite in without hesitation and enjoy it. The words of poetry can be placed into the mouth.
How To Eat A Poem
Don't be polite. Bite in. Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are. You do not need a knife or fork or spoon or plate or napkin or tablecloth. For there is no core or stem or rind or pit or seed or skin to throw away.
Eve Merriam
I love everything you shared here!
In addition to all the advice I’m sure will be given by poetry-learned folks here, I’ll offer something simple I do many mornings.
Prepare yourself like you’re about to enter a sacred space. (put any phone computer type devices in another room altogether or powered off). Step away from the ordinary. Take a few conscious, perhaps fuller than usual breaths to help you slow down. Pick up your chosen book. Let it touch your body, wherever you like - chest, belly, (just please not your feet)... so the book feels the movement of your breath, so your breath mingles with the book. Then, holding the book between your hands, if comfortable, allow your eyes to close. Sense what you sense between your hands. See if you can enter into the sensing, without trying too hard to “feel something.” Just let it come. No need to know anything. No need to label anything. There is nothing to understand. Then, with eyes still closed, or open, flip through the pages and as if about to “receive a reading”, like a Tarot, cowry shell, tea leaves,... let yourself land on a page, open your eyes if they were still closed, see your poem, and start to read. Silently, aloud, try both. See what is there for you. After your reading, sit quietly, eyes closed again if comfortable, and notice what lingers.
-
If you have time, you can now go back to the beginning, start over, and follow all of Pádraig’s instructions. :)
I have had a copy of Poetry Unbound on my side table for two Christmases now. I have not read it all. One week I’ll engage with two, maybe even three. Then two or even three months will go by before I pick it up again. I enjoy knowing it’s there even when I’m not reading in it.
I like Richard’s previous comment about ‘dipping in.’ I still struggle with more poems than I don’t so I need to leave and come back. Most books of poetry I’ve bought have been because I’ve liked the cover, the way the book was made, the paper it was printed on, its size. I usually start with the book. Go to the poems. End up with the poet. Backwards I’m sure. Fun nonetheless. Enjoy whatever reading you do today and in the following week. Thank you once again Padraig for your inspiration.
Everyone has lovely suggestions. I like to stay open to what the poems remind me of. If I read a poem in a collection and if it reminds me of another piece I allow time and space to hunt down the other poem. Then I can read them together and hear different authors have a conversation about something.
What is so lovely about a poem is that it asks to be read again. We can so easily comply. A poem is not meant to be read once but reading once we sometimes know if we will read again, even before we’re through it the first time. A poem creates questions in the reader and sometimes that is the invitation to multiple readings. A poem is a marker in time--the time of its creation, the time of its own speaking, and the moment of our meeting. A poem is a conversation that continues with each reading, and that conversation moves in a book of poems.
So give a book of poems an opportunity by starting. It will ask you to respond, but first you have to listen.
I love to light a candle
early in the stillness of the morning;
Reading with the poem's words lit up,
but the day's chores still
shrouded in darkness.
Curled up on the couch
With a favorite quilt.
🙏🏽 your words bless🙏🏽
Dear Padraig, thank you for the phrase “an elegant enough!”
My approach to a book of poems may not be sound advice, but the truth is that I open it at random to read by chance.
Having been schooled on anthologies, it -- I am embarrassed to confess -- never occurred to me that the poet or the editor of the volume had continuity in mind.
Going forward, I will consider the story of the volume and also read through the organization of poems from start to finish -- probably after I open at random and read by chance.
I love to read, and take in information best by reading. What I love about Poetry Unbound is that is has given me the opportunity to experience poetry in an aural way. I like the set up - listen to the poem fresh, learn more about it and the author and what they might be trying to convey, then the chance to listen again. When there is a poem I really like, I then take time to also read it. Thank you.
I like to create an open-spaced room in my Imaginarium. I have a comfy chair, a quiet dog , maybe a fire going. The air has an expanded freshness to it and an almost audible tingle. Now I can bring it on home
Abundant thanks for this...from a reader as well as a writer. Not least of the wisdom is a felt sense from this post that I need to respect how I find my way. I can only read a poem or two at a time...receiving, savoring. More even than the how-to, is the implicit permission to do things the way you need to do things.