Poetry 101
 

In the beginning, everyone is intimidated by the idea of reading poetry.  What if I don’t understand it?  Does that mean I’m an idiot?  Of course not.  But just as carpenters need tools to create furniture and artists need different kinds of paint brushes, a reader of poetry needs to understand a few of the basic tools of the craft.  These tools, called “poetic devices,” are what the poet uses to draw your attention to certain words or make you think about individual lines and what they mean.  The most important thing to remember when reading poetry, though, is that there is no completely wrong or right way to do it.  Instead, focus on enjoying the sound of words and the process of finding meaning.
 
Ok, Poetry 101: Not all poems rhyme, not all poems are about jilted lovers, and most poems use words and phrases that are far superior to "Roses are Red."  There is one thing that almost all poetry has in common, however, and that is imagery.  A poet uses images to incite the reader to imagine what he is talking about, instead of just telling you what he wants you to see.  For example, in “Early Occult Memory Systems of the Lower Midwest,” the title poem of B. H. Fairchild’s book, the narrator says that “. . . the plains wind stacks / skeletons of weeds on barbed wire fences” (lines 5-6).  By comparing the weeds to “skeletons,” the poet conjures an image of broken and lifeless things hanging from a fence, enhancing the sense of loss or damage.  This image draws the reader's attention to death, or in the very least, the passage of time, conveying to the reader the limits of memory, for all that clings to the fence are “skeletons of weeds.” 
 
Since B. H. Fairchild’s poems don’t rhyme, it is important to understand the significance of where the poet chooses to end his lines, because he uses these specific words to add meaning to the line.  For instance, in the poem “Mrs. Hill,” the first line reads, “I am so young that I am still in love” (line 1).  This line implies that youth is the condition for love.  Perhaps this is what the poet meant for you to think first, making you remember how easily young people get carried away, so that when you continue, “. . . with Battle Creek, Michigan: decoder rings, / submarines powered by baking soda, / whistles that only dogs can hear . . .” (lines 2-4), you get new sense of love and its objects.  In the poem "A Wall Map of Paris," the second line reads, "My friends hand falls along a darkening stain" (line 2).  The emphasis on the darkening stain could mean a couple of things, spilt wine or maybe even spilt blood.  You find out in the next line that the stain actually refers to a mark on a map, but when your eyes linger upon the final words of the previous line, you get a feeling that there might be more to that stain than you thought. 
 
There are other devices that poets use to enhance their work, but a firmer grasp of what imagery and line-breaks are, and how to interpret them, will better equip you to tackle Early Occult Memory Systems of the Lower Midwest.  And if you want to learn more about reading and writing poetry, check out any edition of a book by David Mason and John Frederick Nims called Western Wind: An Introduction to Poetry.  Or come join us at our downtown book club session this month. 
 
--Bobby White