Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Collected Poetry
    The Collected Poetry
    The Collected Poetry
    Ebook47 pages12 minutes

    The Collected Poetry

    By Anne Jindra

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Haunting and riveting by turn, The Collected Poetry will open your mind to an understanding of what it is to write. Each piece is unique and opens a different facet of life, culture, and the world around us. For inspiration, for motivation, or for a read that will take you down the road of almost every style of poetry with exquisitely written movements.

    I've won awards for English writing and writing reviews on not English things, and made a job of writing for someone who wasn't, for a little while. I've written thesis papers, poetry, short stories, lesson plans, research. I've gotten accolades from people who know. Why?

    Because I know people. And because I am willing to edit.

    Sometimes the written word fights with me. It struggles with my blinking cursor until I retreat back into the soft curve of penstrokes, the only hard lines charts and checklists- or my ideas drift further out to the more abstract representation of semiotics in art.
    Sometimes it talks back, the word. Typos I read past ten times before I catch them, giving my forehead to the keyboard, because all I read was what I made, instead of what I wrote- again.

    Yet the Google-fu, artistic turns, checking and re-checking, none of it tops knowing people. Knowing what you've got, and what you haven't.
    Got, that is.

    Why did they put it down? Why wasn't it what they needed, craved, wrapped themselves up in until the moment for them wasn't what was but instead was what wasn't? There's a reason, and it's always one of two.
    There are two types of readers, concrete and abstract.
    Concrete readers want the word to tick away like the piano playing against the metronome. The rise and fall fitting into meter, stanzas; content matching content even as it moves.
    The abstract wants the word to live in the page, for it to draw them along as they feel their eyes fall asleep and their minds awaken and they wander along a path of adjectives and rich nouns until they see a picture where there isn't one.

    What's alive then, and how to trap it into a story?

    Or poetry, or turn of phrase, review. Something, anything that will stand out. Isolate your elements and double check your form. There are two parts to a piece, the reader's and yours. It's up to you to weave a coherent thought in between those two and create a something that isn't really there.
    Emotional description, physical stimulation- these elements are woven into every chapter as it moves in (roughly) a plot, plot, character development pattern, carrying the reader along. Too long without action and he'll put it down. Too long without growth and she will.
    Compelling as it is, the hook, the action, isn't enough for everyone. Lose your grip on literary convention and you'll lose your concrete reader. That person who is gauging your work, just waiting to think: what a great topic sentence. What a well-chosen adjective that decreases the need for superfluous text. What brilliant use of bold, italics, or those big quotes that people put in articles. What great writing.

    And for a guide, the following five structures, or strictures, to measure.

    Scene and setting
    Platonic forms and ideals
    Ritual style and movement
    Artistic style and emotion
    Hue and biological triggers

    But above all, remember this. Each literary convention, every rule, was made to be bent, not broken. Be different, and do it well.

    Note to the Reader: The quotes from a concrete reader are an actual set of quotes, from a conversation with a friend, while I was asking her if my semicolon could live, or if the second part of my sentence was a dependent clause. Or the first, since the subject was implied from the previous sentence.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAnne Jindra
    Release dateApr 4, 2017
    ISBN9781370491049
    The Collected Poetry
    Author

    Anne Jindra

    Anne Jindra was born and raised in Buffalo, New York, where she lived for two and a half decades. After losing her heat for five days in the dead of winter, she decided to migrate to a warmer climate, and chose the lovely and mysterious city of Savannah for her new base of operations. Along the way she adopted three cats, and wound up with one and a half children. A touch of gypsy blood leads her to incorporate these colorful people in most of her work, and a degree in Psychology leads to some slightly eccentric characters in her books. She has received awards in English, reviews, ghost writes, and is delighted in her debut novel. Writing is a step away from her normal life of beta testing after Bethesda cast her as a runaway, arms dealing queen in Daggerfall (the Elder Scrolls).

    Read more from Anne Jindra

    Related to The Collected Poetry

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Malorum Sanatio

      May 10, 2017

      Malorum Sanatio
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Seven-Year Cycle

      Jul 5, 2022

      The Seven-Year Cycle
      8 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Mar 1, 2022

      i look like someonehealing from an accidentbecause i am someonehealing from an accidentthe book of actsscales falling from saul’s eyesremembering my capacityfor stillnesshow long can i sitwithout looking awaythe fear of god escapingi desperately need

      3 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Sep 1, 2019

      before I was one I heard every soundas a sound that had never been heard,before I was one I saw every lightas a light separate from dark, colorhidden in a place I had not been.Before I was one I used feet to wakenin water, to pedal through air,hands

      1 min read

    • Article

      Mountain Time

      Jan 1, 2021

      In the air you don’t know who you are or where My own self feels it is in wind being born These are currents a man made one eighth of smokeless fire fears but chooses A path south from Anchorage to a Mountain House Ungovern the northern land to pass

      10 min read

    • Article

      My Bull-faced Tender Friend Was Right About Everything I Consume One Nasturtium After Another Wishing I’d Been Alive When He Found Me First

      May 1, 2020

      but I wasn’t / I was / somebody else’s eurydice and he had none nor any bride though sirens mobbed him and mopped his brow and stole his breath and laughed deep throated laughs around their thighs around his torso as mine would be hands braced agains

      2 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Nov 1, 2020

      The American linden sways nonplussed by the storm,a bounce here, a shimmy there, just shaking like musicleft over from the night’s end wafting into the avenues before sleep.I remember once walking down Clinton Street, and singingthat line returning,

      4 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Mar 4, 2019

      for William Gifford, 1928–2015 The river. Always the same, never the same.Poughkeepsie. A place north of where I am.To remember you is to remember Poughkeepsie.To remember Poughkeepsie is to remember the river.I am downriver now & you are a memoryI

      3 min read

    • Article

      Butcher Paper

      Feb 16, 2017

      Butcher Paper
      4 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Nov 1, 2022

      Day after Thanksgiving. I give thanks for Eveto beat the rush of appreciating hernext year and let her sleep inuntil three hundred o’clock.Thank you light on the mountainfor being my star on cloudy nights.Thank you all the guns I’ve never ownedand ki

      6 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Jan 1, 2020

      In class, I stared because of the blood going blue.The chalk that coated our fingerly teeth.The way we lapped each other (on the shorewhere the flowering). I gave away our location. Smacked my lips in the coat closet.Sucked at her teeth. We, on all e

      4 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2023

      And god created the waves and we the graves beneath, bodies madeparticulate by the force of water against water, water against rock, againsttime. I descend into the deep in a kind of prayer, listen to its centuries.Make me pay, will you, make me hurt

      3 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      like a ghost ship in spacesomething see-through how the moon used to besomething impalpable untouchableor when you go to touch it your hand goes through itsomething haunted it takes something hauntedto haunt you like a lakelike a half a head of hair

      4 min read

    • Article

      On Death Row, There's No Such Thing As Closure

      Aug 2, 2019

      It is August of the year 2000, and I am cold. I know the sun is shining outside, but there are no windows in the courtroom. The lighting is subdued, darker in the back where spectators sit and lighter in the front where tragedies play out—like a the

      5 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Phillip B. Williams

      Dec 15, 2017

      The masters are yet dead. Wanting to be human,I tried to rewrite The Waste Land. The canon’s reachcasts ruinous light. The masters’ pens breachthis page where, above, my own hand spectates. Babylonrisen, exorcism in reverse, whose nature upended now?

      6 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Nov 1, 2023

      For I woke with a walnut for a skullFor every star switched on, burning through black pagesFor if you seek God you will find His childrenFor everything I know fits in a walnutFor every scene I once lived now invisible For I didn’t want to meet people

      2 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Mary Szybist

      Sep 15, 2019

      Like an alarm I can’t shut off, the summer.Like air raid sirens stuck onthe world is burning, the world is burning& I can’t stop it. Can’t stop ash from the reddening sky falling dry onto grass, onto cloverlit purple at their tips. Mouth level.My che

      1 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Nov 1, 2018

      Three Poems
      5 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Nov 1, 2022

      To be the fish on the ladderand not know what it means. To feel the bronzes,the pearls, the greens, but in a contextof pure combat. To fight the literal stream we hurl ourselves into for nodiscernible purpose, other than some moleculesays it will be

      4 min read

    • Article

      Freefalling

      Aug 17, 2022

      Freefalling
      8 min read

    • Article

      Seven Poems

      Sep 1, 2021

      The dancersIn a terribly brightLight blue gauzeRetained the mystery Skating on a lakeBlue and iceAn illusionary timeWhere poetry feels inevitable The terrific clownWho lies insideEvery blue dressDoes he see me Always a starAlways a rootHorrible auras

      2 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Collected Poetry

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      The Collected Poetry - Anne Jindra

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1