Responses to American Poetry

The aim of this online space is to host the research work of university students or young scholars as this emerges from larger projects focusing on the American poetry scene. The objective of this initiative is to bring this kind of research activity to the attention of the general public in an attempt to further promote the exchange of ideas with regard to the process of reading, understanding and appreciating poetry writing.

Tatiani Rapatzikou 
(Associate Professor, School of English, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, Greece; Advisor and initiative co-ordinator trapatz@enl.auth.gr)

Daniel Ryan

My First Pantoum

We were a small class; just three students, a teacher’s assistant/visiting poet, and our professor, Catherine Rogers. During most sessions it was the five of us. The class itself was called “Applied Writing.” In it we explored different forms, formats, and styles of writing. It’s part of the core curriculum in the Narrative Medicine program at Columbia University. I read the instructions of the assignment and was met with a list of suggested poetic forms to write in. “Ghazal, Pantoum, Sestina, Sonnet, Tanka, Villanelle, and Ode” it read. For no apparent reason in my memory other than a generally humorous mood, the list read immediately to me as a list of names, seven daughters at first. Two names, however, felt too masculine. “Tanka” and “Ode” felt like boys. It changed swiftly. This family was emerging in my mind more clearly and starting to have definition. I was instantly amused and delighted by the opportunities for character as it began.

I tried not to think about it much. The feeling that was present still for no apparent reason was this large family and the dyads, triads, and alliances of siblings that can form when you have that many kids. The images that bloomed for me were of nighttime things. Sneaking out after hours was a theme and the panoply of things that can happen under those conditions. Mostly the images were joyful and active and looked from a distance like kids safely playing with risk. Real danger was certainly at all times nearby. I wanted to express emotions with a massive differential in scale; to develop a sense of existential loneliness against the intimacy of communication and the secrets kids have. I saw clandestine meetings in the deep of night and rites of passage as glowing flashlights swung through the shadows. The poem occurred for me as fantasies combined with shreds of memories. There were various perspectives among the kids to draw from.

The form I somewhat arbitrarily chose — the pantoum — gave me a backbone and repetition to rest into. Pantoum offered me a dance partner I immediately recognized with a musical spirit like that of lyric writing, but it used repetition in raw and intentional ways that lyrics might rely upon with rhymes. Regardless of how I intellectualized it, I found comfort in the boundaries of the form. One of my favorite lines in the finished poem I overheard on a nearby television while writing, and I dropped it in quite impulsively. It reads like a line of dialogue if you’d like to guess.

The poem is not autobiographical. I come from a small family. If anything, the poem is intentionally heightened with tones, emotions, and moments we might encounter in pulpier young adult novels. In the poem’s writing, I had a felt sense of a proud family destined for tragedy. I saw them still in their resplendence and youth, before the collapse. Their house, while it was theirs, had a name too. By the poem’s end, I didn’t want to leave the reader with a sense either of doom or of optimism, but rather with some combination. The father that steps out in the final stanza could be interpreted in different ways, but for me he is benevolent and creative. I’m pleased to say that as the writer of this, at least today, I’m satisfied with the poem’s end. I give the lion’s share of credit for that to the form of the pantoum itself. Without it, I would have forgotten how often cycles repeat.

Contributor Bio: Daniel Ryan
Reflective Piece: Daughters of Sons of Daughters

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