Missouri Press Association
Serving Missouri Newspapers Since 1867
This week’s guest on “Poetry from Daily Life” is Ellen Hopkins, who lives in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. She has been a writer for more than 30 years and particularly likes to write contemporary verse novels. She refers to some of her best poetry in "People Kill People," a hybrid verse/prose novel in which the voice of violence is cast in verse, calling to the characters, written in second person, who invite readers to “become” them. A unique fact about Ellen is that she has visited every state in the United States. Her favorites are in the West. ~ David L. Harrison
As the author of books in verse for kids and teens, I often visit schools and talk about poetry. When I ask who their favorite poets are, “Shel Silverstein” is a regular answer. I’ve identified his witty work as a regular turning point away from enjoying poetry to thinking it’s boring. Let’s face it. People value humor.
By Shel Silverstein
Draw a crazy picture,
Write a nutty poem,
Sing a mumble-gumble song,
Whistle through your comb.
Do a loony-goony dance
‘Cross the kitchen floor,
Put something silly in the world
That ain’t been there before.
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Of course, poetry doesn’t have to be juvenile to be funny. Nor must it be raunchy, although a limerick might rely on bawdiness. A poem needn’t even make the reader guffaw. A gentle chuckle can be quite satisfying.
When humor is the goal, it’s the poet’s job to relate not only something they find funny, but to illustrate why. Often, the subject will be a slice of the poet’s own life, which allows a personal spin. I was raised with horses and used to barrel race. That put me around the rodeo circuit, and cowboys. My tribute:
By Ellen Hopkins
What is it about a cowboy
that makes city girls swoon and country
girls croon tributes in three-chord guitar?
It isn’t the way he wields a rope,
causing broncs to crumble and steers
to tumble like leather-clad gymnasts.
It’s not how he sits his horse,
comfortably astraddle, straight-backed
in the saddle. Heels dropped. Reins gentle.
It isn’t even his fearlessness,
climbing up on a bareback Brahma, despite
probable trauma and an unlikely eight second ride.
No, to understand the cowboy mystique,
you really must compare how other men look
in a pair of boot-cut denims.
Some buy them a size too small,
lie flat to tighten their cinches by one
too many inches, praying for well-sewn seams.
Some let them hang like gunnysacks,
as if spare fabric could conceal physiques
they’d rather not reveal, except with the lights off.
Ah, but a cowboy knows just how to buy
his Wranglers—exactly how snug
they must be to hug in a most alluring fashion.
The key to a cowboy’s charisma is watching
him walk away, perfection in his sashay.
It’s all in the way he wears his jeans.
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Rodeo isn’t a universal experience. My goal was to paint a humorous picture with words. Phrases readers might be unfamiliar with [tighten their cinches] are put into context by the words they’re connected to. How might you use humor to write your unique experiences?
We also share life events. Job hunts. Parenting. Shopping. Relationships. Offering amusing glimpses can make readers nod, “Been there.” Or smile and think, “That isn’t exactly how it happened for me.” The key is relatability, and how you tell the story. In this poem, I chose an extended metaphor to express my thoughts on marriage.
By Ellen Hopkins
Why do people ponder beginning anew,
abandoning one half-baked pie
in favor of starting from scratch:
Picking weevils from stale flour,
forever missing a few,
sifting through obstacles—
lumps, clots, sea salt cement,
scraping the Crisco can, praying
shelf life is longer than expected,
mixing and kneading and shaping
and half-baking it all again.
Oh, give me pastry, hot from the oven,
flaky brown, the kind you must nibble
lest you miss its melt upon your tongue:
Fruit, coaxed ripe by northern sun,
sliced to translucency,
sugared just beyond tart, spiced
with cinnamon, grate of nutmeg,
splash of brandy, everything wrapped
in toasted wheat tossed with honey
and butter, unsalted sweet, still married
to the cream.
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This one requires rereading to grasp the nuance of individual lines. It isn’t meant to inspire laughter, but rather wry smiles. It comes down to style, which you choose. And voice, which you create. The power of poetry lies in the relationship you build with your readers.
Ellen Hopkins is a poet, former freelance journalist, and the award-winning author of 14 New York Times bestselling young adult novels-in-verse, two middle grade novels-in-verse, and four novels (two in verse) for adult readers.
