by J. P. Dancing Bear
I awake unwilling to admit the time
or distance myself from your warmth.
The room is nothing more than the rise
and fall of your breathing. I slip out
of sheets into a cold hour, ready
Myself to the traffic of my commute.
For long moments, I watch and am lost,
as if I had never before seen you
An excerpt from an interview by Kathryn Wagner with poet, J. P. Dancing Bear
“When you write poetry is there any one so-called technique that works for you?
I get a line or two that comes to me. Sometimes I know what the content of the poem will be — other times, I just have words burning in me, seeking a release. In either case, I hold them in my head for as long as I can. I let them pool and become somewhat of a chant or a rhythm — something I can build from. Finally the dam breaks, they are ready to be written down, the other lines flow out. Then I do the business of cleaning up after the flood.
How has your writing evolved as you’ve grown as a poet?
I think the most significant thing for me is that I’ve slowed down. I take my time and therefore I don’t dash out five poems on the same subject, but one poem that stews on it. I also think that I spend more time with the images and the metaphors — I explore them.”
One thing about poetic forms is that you can usually find one to hold almost any feeling. Write your own aubade. Make it personal to you.