Here's Something Fun -- The Copy-Change (or imitation) Poem and a Boff

One of the prompts that keeps coming up in poetry classes is the copy-change, or imitation poem. I've seen the exercise again and again since probably the third grade. Essentially, you choose a poem and use it as the skeleton for a new poem that you create. For more information about this prompt or method, check out this link. 

I generally don't like the exercise (despite its value, which I agree can assist in teaching how poems can work in a bit of a training wheels kind of way). I tend to either make a joke out of the copy-change or redraft the copy change to make my own poem. Tonight I wanted to share one of the jokes and perhaps at another time, I will share one of the redraftings. Below follows my copy change poem from a 2006 poetry class after Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken. I hope the poem evokes a few chuckles. =)


The Pee Not Taken: A Parody that Will
Surely Send Frost to Haunt Me From His Grave

Two seconds before my gates unleash,
And sorry I didn't take a pee
Before my leaving, I clench my teeth
And look down the path far's I can see
Where I might crouch by a bush to pee;

Then hold my nethers, as best I can,
And walking perhaps slowly is best,
Because I'd hate to wet my clutching hands;
Though hands soaked can't match soaking pants
And stained legs, dreading the sodding rest,

Both pants, hands in danger of the leak
Unleashed over leaves finally.
Oh, that I dread my neighbor's toilet seat!
Although my house is just up the street
I doubt I can make it successfully.

My neighbor will remind with a scoff
Someday ages and ages hence:
How I stubbornly ran out and off--
I became the man in this boff,
And sorrowfully ruined my pants.

faux haiku on being a poetry judge for a student literary magazine:

I wrote this very quickly the other day after reading a few very good poems and many poems that flustered me (maybe I just didn't get them?) in a packet of poems sent to me by the editor of a student literary magazine. I am honored they thought of me to be a poetry judge. It means that I have perhaps done enough in my community to merit this (what seems to me) recognition.

I realized quite a few things while I was reading, most of which could be summarized in this faux haiku:

let me get out the gavel....

i've learned the reason

editors delegate.

I hope that the faux haiku at least evokes a few giggles. I also hope to remember to utilize what I've learned here, not to judge others' work, but to consider graceful ways in which to frame how a writer may create more effective poetry and why some of the commonalities in each of those poems should be avoided.

I consider the term "poetry judge," strange and unsettling, quite possibly because I consider poetry an art I am still and will always be learning. I am a student and I hardly consider myself an expert. I also think that poetry is for everyone.

I found myself wanting to write all over the poetry pages with yearnings, suggestions and questions for the writers. While I read, I had a general feeling of reaching out so that each writer could eek out of the abstractions, used as crutches, what they really meant. I yearned so much for the stories that were hiding behind those tall, tall abstractions....

I suppose that means that I should definitely pursue, amongst other things, my MFA. My heart seems to be in it, even if it takes ten years before I am able to formally coach this craft.

...an apple is a pome...

This is a decided prompt based on some Facebook comments that came after my post, "...an apple is a pome...". Here are the comments I received:

Jaime: "A potato is a pomme de terre..."

Nancy: "beware the bad pomme..."

Piper: "and a poem is a pomegranate. :)"

Here is my go after all the comments and ideas mixed (a quick three minute poem):

to eat, or to be eaten by the inevitable edit:
beware the poem that has eyes!
it is hungry, and can see you from any angle,
but so are you. The water pot
is already boiling and the knives
are poised to peel
away the skin and extract
its knotted vision.