Poem #1-March- Lynette

(This poem is on a different topic than climate, but it is what I've got. It was accepted to a poetry journal pending revision. I need a LOT of help in revising this. It has sat for ages, and I feel daunted. I'm not seeing the forest for the trees. I look forward to your feedback.)

Virginia Woolf on Kavenaugh



On the Saturday Kavenaugh was steam rolled onto the US Supreme Court

despite

the testimony of women he had sexually assaulted

while he gleefully laughed in his narcissistic sadism,



I was studying Virginia Woolf’s suicide.

I was surrounded,

covened together with 13

mostly grey-haired women.

Women’s Studies professors.

English professors.

We were all guided

by who should have been honored as Poet Laureate

while she was still in full health,

lesbian writer, teacher, poet

Judith Barrington.



3

hours

of wise

woman group mind

communing, pondering

Virginia Woolf’s suicide note

and her dying request

to destroy

all her papers.

Especially the novel she’d just written.

She condemned it

as superficial

and trite.



“Was it?” I asked Judith. “Was the novel published? Have you read it? Is it superficial and trite?”



“Yes, I’ve read it. It is a wonderful novel.”



We are blind to our own greatness and strength when we sink into those dark moods beyond blue.



That night I dreamt

Virginia came to me from beyond the grave.

Composed, calm,

confident of her infinite

groundedness

as eternal being of shifting energy.

Virginia Woolf stood by my side

assured me

of solidity of spirit heart

indestructible by

war

despair

death

or

Kavenaugh.





“Keep on writing,” Virginia Woolf told me.



And I am.

Comments

  1. Hello Lynette! Huzzah and what joy to find your submission. I was busy elsewhere and thought everyone was turned elsewhere, so I am thrilled to find your poem. I am reading it on April 7 and will be able to give feedback tomorrow or thursday. Again, huzzah!

    ReplyDelete

  2. Virginia Woolf on Kavenaugh

    I love this poem. It brings me hope in the face of a tragedy, Kavenaugh’s appointment. It recalls the power of a circle of wise women. I hesitate to improve or suggest, mired in my awe that someone, who knows something, has accepted it for publication. Will my comments take away from this external blessing already granted? I say yes, it’s okay to bare my feeling heart. So please, know that I am not a published poet, I’m just a gray haired old poet who wants this to be said.

    Word choice: wonderfully wild is here such as ‘beyond blue’ and ‘shifting energy’ and ‘convened’. Following Nickole, it may have more dance if you added your lived experience: “my gut wrenched watching Kavanaugh’s gleeful chuckle”, “I could smell his lying, sweat and semen wafting on burning air.” Some of these might be more powerful than stereotypical language such as steam rolled, narcissistic sadism, superficial and trite. I hear and understand your calm search for reason and heart in chaos, but I could feel it more. Your fury is there and deserves voice. Even the ending could have more viscera, moving from a word like war to words like children mutilated faces or black foreheads burned with gunpowder.

    Places to Tighten. I wasn’t clear why 3 hours was important. Because it takes a long time to see the truth? Because it was long like the hearings, which were not long enough to arrive at truth?

    Please say Kavanaough was confirmed ON THE SAME DAY as the women were convening and just before your dream, even if not literally true. It was a moment of intense importance in our world and the poets.

    The poem made me wonder what her suicide note actually said. I wonder what words Kavanaugh said in his gleeful laugh “everybody drinks beer…’ I wonder what Virginia Wolf looked in person and if she was different in your dream.

    Format: The authority of the Supreme Court and the authority of the coven are nicely picked out, you might emphasize it more. Capitalize those words or bold them and also bold spirit heart, which is the highest authority to which the poet listens. In the first stanzas I would keep despite with Court, which places the emphasis on the truth, which is the testimony of the women. The punches of the gathered women and Woolfs visitation are somewhat diminished by spreading out the writing with so many gaps. I wanted to see them solid, and more bulky, framing the quotes and your conclusion that we are blind.

    This is important Lynnete, I want to hear success in your fight for it. Would Judith love to give it a view?

    Some words did not seem as important to me on my read. So, in my line by line read, I moved them. Please see if anything helps, if not, please go back.


    On the Saturday Kavenaugh was steam rolled onto the US Supreme Court despite

    hours of testimony from women he had sexually assaulted

    while he laughed gleefully.



    On that Saturday I was studying Virginia Woolf’s suicide, I was surrounded,

    covened together with 13 mostly grey-haired women Women’s Studies professors.

    We were all guided by she

    who should have been honored as Poet Laureate

    while she was still in full health: lesbian writer, teacher, poet

    Judith Barrington.

    Three hours of wise woman group mind communing, pondering Virginia Woolf’s

    suicide note and her dying request to destroy all her papers. Especially

    the novel she’d just written, condemned as superficial and trite by her own hand.



    “Was it?” I asked Judith. “Was the novel published?
    Have you read it? Is it superficial and trite?”


    “Yes, I’ve read it. It is a wonderful novel.”



    We are blind to our own greatness and strength
    when we sink into those dark moods beyond blue.



    That night I dreamt Virginia came to me from the grave.

    Composed, calm, confident of her infinite

    groundedness as eternal being of shifting energy.

    Virginia Woolf stood by my side

    assured me of solidity of spirit heart

    indestructible by

    war

    despair

    death

    or

    Kavenaugh.

    ReplyDelete

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