I used to go absolutely batty when it came to my writing. I still do, in fact. When I am working on longer projects--like two unfinished novels I need to get back to, or an epic poem I wrote a while back that took me two years to complete--I am certain I will never be done. In fact, like many neurotic writers, I am certain that I will die unaccomplished and largely unpublished.
Then epigrams came to the rescue. Epigrams are short poems, generally rhyming couplets or quatrains, that say a lot in a few words. They are often witty, and ideally always clever. One of the most famous crafters of epigrams was sharp-tongued Algonquin Round Table writer Dorothy Parker. Ever heard the saying, "Men seldom make passes/At girls who wear glasses"? That was Dorothy. And though I wear glasses, I love how this particular writer nails things in a few words.
In Résumé, the often-depressed Parker shares a cynical catalog of why she chooses to stay alive:
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
Also cynical in tone (Parker was infamous for her verbal acidity) is a poem called "Comment" that skewers romantic hyperbole":
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;
And I am Marie of Romania.
I was inspired by Dorothy Parker, as well as by imagist poets like Ezra Pound, who sought to create image-rich thumbnail sketches using few words. Listen to the haiku-like simplicity of his famous "In a Station of the Metro":
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet black bough.
It is unlikely that anyone ever wrote a more evocative description of public transport--and in 14 words, no less.
Coming across these big little poems inspired me to begin writing my own short poems, to give my quick poetic snapshots credit and allow that they might just stand on my own. Nearly two years ago I started a blog on a subscription blog community titled "Short 'n' Sweet" where I began crafting my own epigrams and imagist works.
Allowing for short bursts of creativity, and giving them a venue where I could receive responses from other writers, was incredibly influential for me. The brevity of the form, as well as the tension of saying the right words under the constraints of rhyming, has encouraged me to cut out extraneous words and to seek a one-two punch kind of impact.
If you write them with energy and care, epigrams and very short poems go down easy as a mixed drink. I don't like to think of epigrams as "poetry light" but instead as "poetry fun." The epigram can provide the ultimate rehabilitation for readers, and writers, who think they don't like poetry.
Sometimes I write something I see as a trifle, not worthy of posting, and it will get a stronger response than a poem about which I was more confident. Thus, I try to post as many of my short poems as possible. In other words, I try not to give myself a personal rejection slip. The world out there is plenty willing to give us rejection slips without us saying, "This is no good" to readily to ourselves. Often, we are too close to our own work to know whether or not something is capable of grabbing readers by the throat, or of providing them a spiritual cup of lemonade.
Sometimes I get lazy and eschew longer projects for these short exercises. It is likely that a few of my "Short 'n' Sweet Poems" bear greater development. However, the dividends of embracing the short poem have been high.
I have written literally hundreds of epigrams and sent them soaring into cyberspace. I have a modest following, mainly of fellow writers, who like what I do. I don't have to know them in my daily physical life to draw support from their positive comments. Writers need strokes sometimes. It's difficult to make a living and to gain notice through writing. Sometimes, we wordsmiths just need to hear from someone, "Your words touched me" or "Your words made me laugh." Even better is when someone says, "Your words touched me and made me laugh." That's when you know that what you're writing is poetry.
As a result of my living laboratory experiment of writing epigrams and imagist works, I don't feel like a closet writer but instead a modern writer who could be called prolific. I like the writing voice I've developed--more straightforward and bolder than my speaking voice--and I will continue honing epigrams along with writing in other genres. Below, I'll share some of my "Short 'n' Sweet poems," to give you an idea of how I've made the epigram my own.
And then, by all means, I encourage you to start doing lines. You'll find the short poem to be a breath of fresh air. And now (drum roll!), here are is an array of my epigrams. I hope you like them. Let's start with some epigrams:
My jagged heart
My jagged heart is showing now
It's dripping down my sleeve
If you don't like the sight of blood
Then maybe you should leave
You
You came and went
A wet sneeze
I'm still not dry
Feral
Being here alone all day has nearly made me feral
The TV sells its secrets, get more thin or get more virile
Little bird
Once I bought a little bird and put him in a cage
And then I bought another bird and then they got engaged
Jellyfish
Hey there, jellyfish
Sting me and I'll make a wish
Chasing benzos
Chasing benzos, drinking coffee, followed by a beer
I wonder, is it being up or being down I fear?
Cotton candy
I've got cotton candy stuffing wrapped around my candy heart
So just in case you drop me you won't break my favorite part
Swing
I tried to take a swing at you,
instead I fell in love
I don't blame my boxing skills,
I blame your golden gloves
You
You
Yeah, you
You're like a tattoo
Like a heart, on my parts
With a dagger run through
Capitalism
Isn't capitalism really all
just mugging Peter to pay back Paul?
Sapphic
My friend and I are feeling sapphic
Touching tongues and stopping traffic
Eden
A kiss like this once spoilt the world
Ever tasted apple in the mouth of a girl?
Personality profile
I'm an extroverted introvert
A jumpy jack-in-the-box
A parrot who you are sure is dead
Until it begins to squawk
Confession
I'm feeling dirty while coming clean
The priest is leering behind his screen
Claimant
I'm the final heir
to the blessed Russian throne
If the bloody world won't back me
then I'll go it on my own
Temple
Sex is a religion
and a woman is a temple
where a man erects an obelisk,
though nothing's quite that simple.
Question
The question isn't what'd you see,
it's what'd you think you saw?
It's did that crow pronounce your doom
or simply give a caw?
Sybil-ant
I'm a pop sensation
I'm an old man ranting about inflation
I live in a trailer with a cooler full of beer
Between the three of us it's been a hell of a year
Beat that
Into the church of Allen Ginsburg
I tiptoed, in a pink plastic cowl
I couldn't sit still--what a sermon!
The kind that you clap for, or howl
Tuck and roll
You scorched the earth, for what it's worth,
but you couldn't throw salt on this land.
I rise from the ashes and bat my eyelashes--
it's time that I find a new man
Voyage of the Dusktreader
The ship is chasing the sunset,
as if it owed her money.
The horizon may be found due north,
near a sky like lamplit honey
And here are a few imagist poems:
Moon
Silly little pocket mirror
The night sky wants to see its freckles
Wind
The wind blows
Somewhere a poppy hikes up her skirt
Kitchen mermaid
kitchen mermaid
scales like little frying pans
halo of sifted flour
Sweet
You send sugar water through my veins
Make my heart a feeder for hummingbirds
Can't you feel their beating wings?
Your careful touch
In the night breeze
your careful touch is Javanese
Seasonal affective disorder
The short, sloping days of winter
slant their eyes at me
Nowhere
Filling station blasts
Fleetwood Mac
Commonest scene
on the western map
Drive
Highway at night—
a thousand brakelights
send me valentines
I hope you enjoyed this small selection of short poems. I know you can tackle some great ones of your own, one small word at a time.