Place in Poetry

“I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.” Pablo Neruda

It has been raining here the last day and a half. The garden really needed it and I am pleased that we will have cooler temperatures this weekend. Everything in the garden looks more beautiful after the rain. I am reading and writing this weekend about place and Neruda’s quote about where his poetry was born invites a question.

If you write poetry where is your poetry born? Is it born in your birthplace or the place you live now? Is it born in the garden? or in the kitchen? or in some other form of creative arts? If you could be anywhere in the world this morning where would you be? Write so a reader would want to be in that place as well.

Three years ago this summer I started writing poetry so I think Colorado is where my poetry was born. I am reading a beautiful book, Poets On Place that includes many interviews from contemporary poets on their thoughts on how place figures into their work. Now get back to work!

The Writing Nag

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2 Replies to “Place in Poetry”

  1. my poetry seems to be born when I'm outside in the garden, or hanging laundry on the line. It seems like being outside clears my head and gets me inspired, but I do have to come inside to turn the inspiration into written word. There are times of year when I can't write- when my creative juices are squandered on my career or other stresses. I always welcome the calm times, because that's when I can think clearly again.

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