About Instapoetry

Pictured: Poet Rupi Kaur

(I penned this to the same college student, this time in response to questions about the Instapoetry movement. Apparently he uses excerpts-- with attribution-- in a college newspaper.)

Change in any art is necessary to keep it fresh and alive. What's happening with the success of Rupi Kaur and others like her is a return to extreme simplicity in form, and to simple, basic emotion. To language's roots, in a sense. The poems are fresh and readable, and so are drawing readers to online poetry. The short, clear style is made for the digital age-- at least, as you imply, for these still-early days of the digital age. So, yes, Rupi Kaur is the face of poetry now. 

Can it last? I don't think so, unless it evolves. It's too simple, and will quickly become monotonous. What looks new and fresh today won't look so fresh a few years from now when it's been done over and over. And over, with little variety. Its utter simplicity leaves little room for variety. It's the kind of poetry (I won't call it verse; it's not verse) which anyone can write. Which means everyone will write it, and the world will be flooded with Rupi Kaur knockoffs until we're drowning in them and people cry out, "Enough!" Are Rupi Kaur and her colleagues talented enough to evolve their art? Or are they one-hit wonders who'll be writing and reciting the same tunes ten or twenty years from now? They have a penchant for promotion. That's obvious. Is that enough?

Their flaw is they use none of the effective tricks of poetry developed over centuries. Things like cadence, wordplay, the occasional (or not so occasional) rhyme. What some call euphony. Rupi Kaur stresses that her work draws on trauma and abuse. So did Sylvia Plath's. Plath's poems were extremely self-centered-- but they also used every tool in the poet's toolbox, which is why they've lasted-- why they're as strong now to read or listen to as when they were composed. 

The poetic art has fled from craft-- from the instinctive use of what some call craft-- since Plath's death, and much of the running away is from simple laziness. Academic poetry has put people to sleep for decades-- in part because it threw away rhyme and meter, elements of poetry which existed for a reason. Which existed because they helped the listener connect easily to the work-- aiding the mind in flowing into a work's rhythms and imagery. The best poetry expresses a joy in language itself-- which is why Shakespeare has lasted. It should be fun and exciting to recite. The work of the Instapoets is too simple to be fun and exciting to recite.

Still, what they're doing might be necessary to bring new people back to the art. The true innovators will be those who move strongly beyond Rupi Kaur and her peers-- who can build on the simplicity but give the new audiences the excitement of a more complex and passionate art. That's the trick. That's the task. That's the accomplishment to go after-- not to dismiss Instapoetry, but to surpass it. To top it at its own game by subtly and gently bringing back those long-scorned and forgotten tools of cadence and rhyme. Mixing them into the simple words and short works. Keeping the poems short but making them more powerful, more compressed. Creating poems which will simply engage the online reader-- but knock those readers out of their chairs with their power. That's what I'd like to see. If it can be imagined, it can be accomplished.

Karl Wenclas

Editor

New Pop Lit

www.newpoplit.com 

Answer to a Young Poet

(Answer to a series of questions sent to New Pop Lit.)

The best way for a poet to stand out is to write better poetry. Most of the poems which editors like ourselves receive are bad prose divided into lines. Poets forget that poetry is meant to be heard. Ideally, in our eyes, it should have a sense of music: pace, rhythm, and yes, the occasional rhyme. Off-beat rhyme. Unpredictable rhymes in the middle of a sentence. Plus other poetic tools like alliteration, of which too many poets seem never to have heard. The lost concept of euphony. That's what we look for-- poems meant to be read out loud, which are striking or moving or powerful when recited out loud. Which like a river or a hurricane build momentum and power and meaning with each stanza.

That there are a million poets out there struggling to be heard means the new poet needs to think beyond what's current and accepted. Create the new. Go past what other poets are doing. Any art is, or should be, in constant flux. Always changing. What the standard is now will not be the standard ten or twenty years from now. The key is to innovate. Think ahead of everyone else.

If you want to be the best, you have to know the best. The new poet should read the best poets-- the real best, of every variety. From Edgar Allan Poe to Emily Dickinson to Sylvia Plath. Ginsberg and Berryman, Maya Angelou and Dylan Thomas. Shakespeare, for the use of language, of course. Your brain will subconsciously synthesize all of it.

The new poet should attend and read at poetry open mics in the area. That's where the excitement in today's poetry world can be found. A lot of the performed poems will be hip-hop rhyming poems-- but not all of them. Besides, hip-hop is popular for a reason-- because it's easily remembered and makes an immediate connection with the audience. We believe future poetry will be a fusion of the street and academic styles. The best of both worlds.

A live audience in a hectic venue like a bar or coffee shop is the best way for a poet to test whether or not a poem makes a connection. Does it stir the audience in some way? Feedback is all. Reading with and against other poets is the best way to sharpen one's work.

We also suggest the new poet put together a simple zine or chapbook of his or her poems-- even if it's made on a copy machine. This gives the poet something to hand out at readings. Or sold, for as little as a buck. The idea being to use every available way to get the word out about yourself and your work.

Publishing in esteemed journals like Poetry magazine or The New Yorker is an opportunity open to very few. Online journals like ours provide an alternative. They can be found via listings like www.duotrope.com, or the literary magazine listings at www.pw.org. Or simply google "poetry magazines" or "literary magazines" or "poetry listings" and scores of addresses will come up.

To the new poet: Good luck!

Karl Wenclas

Editor

New Pop Lit

www.newpoplit.com

Writer in Trouble

I just received word that poet Michael Grover has cancer and in need of cooperative aid from the writer community. Here’s a link to a site dedicated to fundraising for him—with explanation of what’s happening:

https://www.gofundme.com/alittlehelp4grover

I know Michael from my days in Philly when I was spearheading THE most radical writers group ever. (Underground Literary Alliance.) I met Mike in a large calling room in which we were both (ironically) fundraising for an ostensibly activist organization. I had something of a reputation at that time, as well as the loudest voice in the room. What struck me about Grover was his consistency—he could read the same script again and again and each time nail it perfectly. I recall that when I heard he was a poet I gave him a little bit of a hard time—mocking the art and its big names. He assured me there were talents outside the closed world of academe who were keeping the art form vital.

When I saw him read at a place on South Street one evening I realized he was right. He had several dynamic spoken word poets there, including his colleague Natalie Felix. Soon they moved their show to the Five Spot.

We became buds on the job—double-dating after work regularly with two ladies from the place. Since we usually went to the same bar on Walnut Street where they had great pitchers of margaritas, we started a little club named after the place, “The Moriarty’s Society.” Membership cards even.

 At some other point we formed another club—also with membership cards—called “Left Wing Wackos.” This because a rather buttoned-down bourgie caller would tell people on the phone, “We’re not a bunch of Left-Wing Wackos.” Grover would laugh and say, “But we are!”

To give another anecdote out of many: One afternoon the two of us were drinking at the famous Philly bar McGlinchey’s. Rather heavily. At one point I realized I was blitzed and said, “I won’t be able to make it,” about the job and called in sick. Michael determined to go in. He’s a guy who doesn’t show when he’s been drinking, but I knew he was blasted. He walked out of there in a straight line, staring ahead, his eyes fixed on his mission. I later heard he had one of his best evenings calling ever.

I read at a few of Grover’s events, and recruited him for a few ULA readings. Notably, at a benefit for a writer in Chicago in 2003, and at our Medusa show in Philadelphia in 2005—of which there’s video. We eventually had a falling out—at the time I was a hard charger and maybe even a little crazy.

I’ve always believed Michael Grover to be one of the absolute best spoken word poets in the country. Here’s hoping he gets well soon so he can continue his poetry making.