Random Acts of Poetry: In the Comment Box
November 16, 2008 · Print This Article
L.L. here. Feeling very random on a rainy day. Feeling like I want to find poetry in hidden places. “Why not,” I think to myself, “find poetry in the comment box?”
So I remember a few fine words I saw in various places—some funny, some pensive, some even prophetic. Then, using a little poetic license, I set them down. Add line breaks, change a few words, delete others, but overall preserve the heart and soul of the original comments.
I get permission of course. Permission to shape and turn, bring to light, collaborate. That’s the beauty of community. Sometimes we come alongside, shift something a little to the right, knock off a bump at the top, carve a deeper smile at the edge of a tentative lip.
Thanks, Commenters, for letting me parade your accidental poetry even while I add my little dabs of paint and glue or use my pocket knife…
First up are these comments from Laure that I found at Joelle’s place, Alivening. In a post called Small Things, Joelle had said, “I feel strongly about caring for this miraculous ball of blue and green. I fall in love, numerous times a day, with the facets sparkling in luminous life….
I am in love a moment at a time. I hope the moments add up to something portentous. If I planned better, moved it higher on my priority list, maybe loving Earth would be a more consistent and careful absorption. These days, though, I do my part in infinitesimally small ways.”
Her final question to readers: “How do you love the earth?”
Laure’s answer:
Fiercely
anonymously,
with words …
and many tears
And not to dwell too long in one place, but I liked what Laure said at another post there too. One about the true self versus the false self, called Plastic
Laure responded:
these words
ask to be
listened to,
really and
respectfully
listened to
not disputed
or white washed
with the sweat
of anxiety
you honor those
who take the time
to receive you
i receive you
Then on a light note, Erin came to my post about being on the radio. She saw the Napoleon couch (above) and responded:
How much will we
have to crane our necks
to converse? And wherever
shall we put our tea cups?
Still, if it were the living room
of a synchronized swimmer
from a 1940’s Hollywood
spectacular, I could just see
the party. Everyone would
launch off the red velvet at the
same time, swirling, diving,
reaching for the veggie tray.
All in perfect synchronized
red velvet Hollywood pizazz.
Last but not least, dear Ann, who is one-of-a-kind (and her readers love her for it). She responds to Nelson Publishing’s Mr. Hyatt. In so many words, he suggested an author must:
talk-blog-Twitter-Facebook-talk-talk-and-talk-again-open-comments-move-shake-make.
To which Ann respectfully offered, like a Wendell Berry of the web:
in a cyberworld
of twittering,
facebooking,
commenting
can one create
an oasis…
unusual quiet,
entries that invite
one to slow,
to think, to really
enter in, consider,
blog counter-
cyberculture:
no obligation to
comment, no full
sidebars. in a world
of so much
noise, can you
create a retreat,
build a still chapel?
I hope you’ve enjoyed these unexpected poems from the comment box. But before I go, let me share what Laure told me when I asked permission. She said, “You know, sometimes I think I’m most poetic when commenting. I’m on a journey of awakening to my poet self and it is in relationship with others … to the tenderly expressed humanity of others that I come intensely in contact with my self.”
Comment, anyone? You may just find your poetic self. Or perhaps you’ll find it better if you sit back in the still chapel of retreat…
without knowing it, l.l., you posted this wonderful piece on my birthday. thank you for the gift of your words. i receive them humbly and with profound thanksgiving!
the truth is not subject to agreement … we are all poets in this world … we are all a breathing poem. we kiss one another with words.
Laure, serendipity! It was supposed to go up on Friday (you know, for poetry Friday) but we had an administrative glitch.
However, that turned into a birthday gift. Someday I will remember that the glitches in life often turn out to be unexpected gifts.
Happy, happy birthday. And thanks for the additional poem here in this comment box. Yes, we do kiss one another with words.
L.L.
You have seated me at the cocktail table with very fine company and now I am quietly staring down at my toes.
Lovin’ it!!!
L.L.,
May I whisper in this still chapel of retreat?
You’ve gathered community words and arranged simple things thoughtfully, unexpectedly, into poems. As you eloquently phrased it: you collaborated. “That’s the beauty of community.”
It is.
This collection of “comment box poetry”… causes me to pause.
For as much as I’ve prayerfully, intentionally, set out to create an online place of quiet… you’ve just highlighted the value of that medium of the comment box. As has Laure, so powerfully.
I wonder: does Wendell Berry ever rethink his counter-culture ideas?
And isn’t this just like poetry? With the turn of a phrase or two, to turn everything on its head?
Thank you, Laure, Erin, L.L., for words that make me think…. and rethink…
I deeply appreciate this *community.*
All’s grace,
Ann
Beautiful! And what a wonderful idea to create poems out of people’s heartfelt responses!
Great idea! I am always amazed at how my cyber friends and fellow bloggers “talk”….it *is* poetry! Beautiful words, soothing cadence, everything warm and honest. Reading Ann Voskamp’s blog is like being wrapped in a warm and beautiful quilt, enfolded in carefully chosen but easily flowing words…each square of the quilt lovingly chosen and stitched by hand. Yours is the same…and so many other places on the web I’ve found through The High Calling Blogs. Each an oasis of beauty in a cyber-world that’s…well…not so beautiful. Thanks for the poetry and the oasis!
Erin… you?! Nah… or, if you are, I’m sure those toes are tapping.
Lorrie… much to love in all these voices, yes?
Ann… whisper or shout. There’s a chapel here, but we’re also doing the Hollywood pizzaz dance in the next room. Community aches for a diversity of expressions and possibilities. We need the dance and we need the hush behind closed doors.
Stephanie… I’m just thankful that these Commenters trusted me enough to hand me their words for more shaping. And the words themselves cried beauty and laughter to begin with.
Erica… glad you enjoyed the poetry of talk. As you say, the web can be a difficult place, but there’s also profound beauty out there. Much like the world itself, I suppose.
{{{Ann}}} thank you! i share your gratitude about this community that we find ourselves a part of.
and may i take a moment now to turn to those faithful who read but do not leave words in a box …
i feel your presence. i behold your presence. i’m thankful for your presence … all over the blogosphere!
{{{l.l.}}} yes, your own vulnerability and transparency makes room for my own and in that space i can and do entrust my wordpaint to you.
L.L….
Slipping back here to say… *thank you.* You, serendipitously, highlighted my musings in a far-flung comment box and opened up a conversation for me and those who wander through my dark corner… I never would have brought this up…. but you shaping words I left behind somewhere and posting them allowed me to hear from others who pause in my dark corner now and then…
Yes, some happily favored the enabling of comments…. but long thoughtful letters too, about how some thought there “beauty and simplicity in the very absence” of a comment box.
I had anguished that a lack of comments communicated a sense of indifference… aloofness. A disdain for community. Which couldn’t be farther from my heart.
But to hear readers — that they, graciously, were good with that place just being a quiet place. Yes, some places are animated, happy community places… and some are hushed, still community places.
I am glad there is a time and place for both. ~warm smile~
My humble gratitude for *this* place and all this community….
All’s grace,
Ann
Ann…I like your blog being a quiet place, it’s a place I go knowing I’ll find peace there, tranquility, and grace. Plus, I am so frequently left speechless by your words that a comment box wouldn’t do justice anyway.
I am so blessed by these communities, both the quiet and the animated!
Dear Ann (and all others that give of themselves, allowing words to exhale from their hearts)…I am always amazed at your ability, gift and the sacrifices that you make to share the way you do. I find myself struggling to find time to read…let alone write. Many times, as I am moved to tears by what you have written, I would desire to “leave a comment”. Yet, my comments and the comments of hundreds of other readers may only confuse, complicate and clutter what has been said, and steal away how many more precious, irretrievable moments of your time. Although I feel a kinship with you that wants daily, personal interaction, I trust that we are making that connection through the Spirit, as we pray one for another. Forgive this feeble comment and the moments it has stolen from you; but feel the love, in Him, for you, that it contains.
This is for Ann (without the e!)–
A simple “Amen!” to “the beauty and simplicity in the very absence of a comment box”, and also to the comments of Erica Hale and Leslie Ainsworth. They echo my sentiments very well. God bless you for your God-given gift given to us. A sincere and heartfelt thank you.
Mmmm… I just came here and was blessed to reread Laure’s beautiful comments, to be touched with the simple tenderness of response. It means much to be received, having others gently and thoughtfully share in conversation. And I am speechless. Nothing more to say.
Joelle, yes, Laure. She receives. What a Christ-act. She radiates.
Your presence here… thank you. No words necessary.
Leslie… your comment has stolen nothing, friend. I receive it as nothing less than gift. It is treasured. Like you.
And really Leslie, it is I who sometimes feel like the one stealing. The broken-beautiful hearts that make their way to my inbox — I want to share them, not hoard them in quiet. Yes, I want you all to meet! You luminous souls, shining Jesus through the cracked places!
Someday, perhaps, the still place will sing, swirl, with a choir of voices. For now…. thank you for joining me in whispering in the quiet.
He knits us close in His love sinews…
Unspeakably humbled by each of you…
Ann
(P.S. Erica — me too! The happy delight of places to share… and then dark places to just sit a spell…. I am glad we can together.)
joelle … may His words enfold you … at the first reading … and the next … and every one after. i am only ink in His hand … spilling.
ann … my whole person is bowed down. may my gaze and the beauty which fills the eyes of my heart lead others to encounter what He sees. in His light, i see light.
Because of the Internet Conference last week, I’m a little late to this party. Amazing stuff.
Laure, you “honor those/ who take the time/ to receive you.” Beautiful.
Erin, you realize your comment is almost a sonnet? Now stop looking at your toes.
Ann, boy do we love you. Your poem is very close to the vision of this network. And sometimes I worry. Will the medium always define the message? If so, we’re in trouble because this medium is noise, noise, noise.
But most of all, I love the idea that poetry is a way of commenting on the world. And the comments we make to each other are a kind of poetry if we’re really listening for it.
That’s what all of this is about for me. Not marketing, but listening. Shhh. Quiet. What do you hear?
Yes, Marcus… if we’re listening. Isn’t that key?
Too often, I’m not.
And yet it is all through Scripture: Speak Lord, your servant is listening.
Sometimes it is, yes, hard in this medium. But maybe what we hear makes it worth the effort?
And on that note…. what did you learn at the Internet Conference? ~smile~
Aaahhem…may I please interrupt just to say…I am a faithful daily reader of dear Ann. And many others. While I do have a comment box on my own blog, I think it’s fine and dandy for those who don’t.
I join Erica in her warm feelings of what she receives from Ann’s place of refuge…but I also find myself. She reflects and shares things I sometimes try and tamp down or push back. Then my eyes are opened and many many times, they leak. Right onto the keyboard.
Without knowing her, I know her. Her heart follows hard after Him. Mine joins. Our paths are from different parts of this incredible world, but the same. In many ways.
As a matter of fact, I was lead here by a reading today. Well, one from a few days ago…but I am behind reading all my e-mails…I got hung up reading comments.