Collins Opinion

As we practice and learn about the craft of writing, we sometimes forget what it is we are supposed to be doing when we read a piece. This is especially true when it comes to poetry. We forget to enjoy the words and allow them to resonate within us. In the poem entitled “ Introduction to Poetry,” Billy Collins reminds us of this fact. 

Collins’ Poem is listed below: 

Introduction To Poetry

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means. 

Billy Collins

In the first stanza tells us to examine a poem for what it is. Take a few moments and see what it is to see. Next, he invites us to listen to the sound of the words when they are spoken. There is so much information to be learned just by examining the poem’s surface and listening to how it sounds when spoken aloud. Collins then suggests that we begin to dig a little deeper. He asks us to probe around to see what we can discover. To have no expectations going in. To feel our way around the poem. Letting its energy splash against our faces, enjoying every aspect the poem offers us. Collins cautions us about digging too deep into a poem. Stripping it down to its bare bones, as if it will relinquish the location of the Holy Grail. We all know that the Grail is the heart of those who seek it. Just as the meaning of the poem read. 

A Brief Look at Imagery

In poetry, imagery is one of the most powerful tools in our toolboxes. If used properly, we can guide our readers precisely where we want them. However, we can also paint just enough of any image to allow them to visualize an experience that relates to them. So, I decided to look at the work of some other poets to gain a deeper understanding of imagery and its uses in poetry.

Today, let’s take a look at a poem by Gary Soto.

Everything Twice

Biology was a set of marble-colored tables

And gas spouts where we bloated up frogs, I thought,

And I thought I had a chance if I bought the book

Early and read it with my lips moving,

Maybe twice, maybe with my roommate half-listening.

I tried chemistry. I tried astronomy,

Which was more like honest-to-goodness math

Than the star of Bethlehem shining down the good news.

I was never good

At science, and so at the beginning of spring

I learned my boredom on the wood desks

Of piss-ant chairs. But when our biology prof came

Into the classroom wiping his mouth,

When he moved a chair out of the way

And still bumped into it, I knew I had a chance.

He was drunk. His bow tie was a twisted-up

Twig and a nest of hair grew

From each ear. I looked to the skeleton

In the corner and smiled. A breeze stirred

And the bones clicked on

Their strings and wire. With the classroom splayed

With sunlight and hope, the students sighed.

A few pencils rolled to the floor –

An easy grade for all. The prof slurred,

“Man was never created equal.” He fumbled at the

Blackboard as he hunted for chalk. When he turned to us,

Chalk dust clung to his face.

For a moment, I don’t think he knew where he was.

He touched his bow tie. He stuck a finger

Into an ear and repeated, “Man was never created equal,”

Took a step and stumbled into chairs. Right then

I knew I didn’t even have to buy the book.

He was already repeating himself. Right there,

I looked out the window and sucked

In the good air of spring. Trees were wagging blossoms

And the like. One petal would sway,

Then another, sway after slight sway,

A repetition that was endless

And beautiful in the uniquely scientific world.

-Gary Soto

It is interesting how Soto connected the poem’s first two lines to the last two. As if he wrote them initially as a complete stanza. When read together, it has the feel of a single consciousness.

Biology was a set of marble-colored tables

And gas spouts where we bloated up frogs, I thought,

A repetition that was endless

And beautiful in the uniquely scientific world.

However, we can see the thought’s expansion or elaboration by breaking them apart.

In this piece, Soto elaborates on this experience with image-driven depiction. Soto also uses summary imagery throughout the poem. Early in the poem, we see something remarkable. It is as if we are in the haze of the morning. Lost in the mundane repetitiveness of life is displayed well here. Each of us remembers, rereading the science books. Almost the author purposely wrote, so we had to read everything twice to get the slightest idea of what was happening.

Early and read it with my lips moving,

Maybe twice, maybe with my roommate half-listening.

I tried chemistry. I tried astronomy,

Which was more like honest-to-goodness math

Than the star of Bethlehem shining down the good news.

I was never good

At science, and so at the beginning of spring

I learned my boredom on the wood desks

Of piss-ant chairs

In the next portion of the piece, Soto shifts gear a bit. Better stated, he zooms in on the professor. He provides crisp and clear images of the mannerisms of the instructor. In this section, he zooms in and out, letting us know which portions of the story are important. Then his attention shifts or slides to the actions happening outside the class. He begins daydreaming about the beauty of nature. Then, he closes his thoughts.

In this, I enjoyed how Soto described everything twice in the piece. Showing us how things in life can be viewed from two different perspectives