Tuning Your Ear

Birds can imprint on voices before they are hatched. And studies confirm that we humans hear sounds before we are born—our mother’s heartbeats, intestinal sounds, music, and the rise and fall of spoken language. Further, researchers have found that fetuses who are spoken to in a variety of pitches have an increased interest in sounds, and the inflections in sound, after birth.

Now, isn’t that what’s happening to us as poetry lovers when we hear a poem that just “feels right?” We have an increased interest in the poem. Our hearts quicken, our brain activity trips over itself thinking about the poem. We imprint all that information into our sensory system. This is understandable, for poems are all about sound and have been since the first cave-dwelling poet stood to recite the heroics of his/her brethren and sistren.

Listening equals savoring

To really savor a poem, I believe we need to hear it read aloud. Oh yes, the letters on the page and the physical body of a poem are important, too. It’s good to be able to see that, and even to trace our fingers over the printed page—touching the text and the spaces around it. And, of course, the sense a poem makes is vitally important. But to really let a poem soak into your bones, the music of its language must be heard. (If only we could eat them, and smell them, too!)

Revising with our ears

One way writers catch clunkiness in poems, or prose, is to hear their work read aloud, either by the writer, or others. The ear is more precise in rooting out awkward phrases, discordant sounds, and clumsy rhythms than the eye. Some authors—even novelists—record themselves reading their work and then play that back, noting places where the work could be smoother.

Some writers, like myself, also must strive to overcome regional dialects. My family is from the Appalachian region of Kentucky and West Virginia. Sometimes I hear/speak words differently than others do. I’m aware of this and will often have another person read my work aloud for me. (Spouses are good for this!) And occasionally, I will listen to the pronunciation of some words using an online audio dictionary. This is just to make sure I’ve put the stresses in the right places—especially if I am working on a metrical piece.

Practice listening

One of the most inspiring and helpful activities a poet can partake in is to attend live poetry readings or online Zoom readings. Listen to others and steep yourself in someone else’s cadence, pitch, word choices, and yes … accents. Let yourself drift away on the melodies of the spoken word. Sure, some voices are grating and do not do their poems aural justice. And you may not agree with the message, or perspective, of some poems. But don’t worry about that too much. You’re there to listen to the rise and fall of our quirky language—the quick prick of impish “i” sounds, and lull of “u,” those good, deep double “oo” sounds. And there are all those soothing, or explosive, consonants, as well.

These are the tools of our trade. We need to hear them in use—not just read them—before we can master our tools. And if you’re brave enough, attend a reading on an open mic night and let others hear you read. You may also come away with some valuable feedback.

Go deeper

If you hear a poem and it just “feels right,” try to get a copy. Read it aloud, over and over. Try to figure out why it works for you. As a writer it isn’t enough to just know it works; you want to know why/how it works and how you can do something similar.

At times we simply love something because it is familiar—and that’s fine. A poem you love may use a measure that has become a cultural standard such as the ballad measure, or common measure. (Alternating four beat and three beat iambic lines rhyming aBaB, or aBcB, such as in America the Beautiful, Emily Dickinson’s poems, or hymns like Amazing Grace.)

If a poem you love is in a standard metrical pattern such as those listed above, ask yourself: How can I work with this, make it uniquely mine, and still love it?

Listening, and loving it

Finally, let me say that I believe all poems are lyrical—though some are a bit less so than others. This is due to a poem’s condensed nature. Generally, a poem has a great deal to accomplish in a small amount of time and space. (Of course, epic poetry can fill volumes!) There are insights, sensual details, probing questions, humor, pathos and epiphanies magically conjured. Lyricism facilitates all that, and more. With the right sounds we are lulled into a place where our defenses are down and we, as listeners and lovers of poetry, say “Here! I’ve opened my heart to you. Now, come on in!”

Links

Many poetry societies host live, or Zoom, readings and open mic opportunities. Here are some Florida ones to consider attending. Or range farther afield, even internationally, by finding online events via https://www.eventbrite.com.

• Ancient City Poets: last Sunday of each month, live. Check for each month’s venue at facebook.com/ancientcitypoets or bodor.org/.
• North Florida Poetry Hub: twice a month Zoom readings/workshops.
• Florida State Poets Association: first Tuesday evening of the month at 7:30pm via Zoom.