Half Starts and Trail Offs

Where it begins: Susan Swartwout

Apr 27

MeredithPoetry, Reading, Uncategorized, Writing 1 Comment

For my last entry on poets I know, I thought it would be fitting to go back to where poetry begins for me: Susan Swartwout. I know I’m not the only student from Southeast Missouri State University who could say that because Susan has been a mentor to many. She has an amazing ability to look past the awkward, bumbling lines of first-time writers and see the skeleton, the roots, of something beautiful.

I pulled out my old files tonight and looked through my notes and writing from EN275, Intro to Creative Writing, and took some time to remember where I started.  While it’s simultaneously slightly embarrassing and a lot amusing to look at how far I’ve come since then, I can see, through my drafts, how Susan helped me shape my writing and I can recognize those lessons she taught me that still echo in my mind every time I write or revise my poetry.

So, tonight, I wanted to share some poetry by my mentor, the woman where it begins.

First, from her book  Freaks:

In the dusk of my heart there are
no safe places. Thin-skinned
winged emotions flap their blind
interior paths and sometimes scream
just to let themselves know where
they are. That they are.

~from “Nightfall Brushes Her Hair”

From her book Uncommon Ground, inspired by her time in Honduras:

Citrus trees grip the mountains, birthing
lemons the size of small melons
and limes so shining you want
to rub them over your body.
At the top of the village road,
the orange grove shimmers,
even the leaves look succulent:
cavern-green of Lorca’s dreaming.
Hard nipples of fruit that swell
in sunlight practice their pendulous droop.

~from “Fence” in Uncommon Ground

Note: I’m excited to bring this month of poetry to a close with some awesome guest bloggers, starting tomorrow. First up is Andy Livingston, so keep an eye out for that.