Kai's Beauty Rituals 2000

I don't think I ever thought about form as much as I have in the last year. It has become a part of what I see on the page as much as the content of the poem. In my own writing, I experiment with form now and then (or as the poem requests). So this week's look at form helps me continue an internal conversation with all of you.

I've always thought of poetic form as a sort of "order" to the writing. By that I mean, the poem's form is a way for the poet to use the page to "order" the words and sometimes the meaning so that the reader can interact with the writing more closely to the way the poet intends. Of course we (poets) have no real control over what the reader does once they are alone with the poem, but form gives us a false sense of security over the poem. I guess I think of form as the outside of the poem and the content as the inside, but that they cannot (and should not) be separated (if done well). [I already know the stage folks are saying, but what if a poem doesn't live on the page? -- right, right. I'm talking about page poetry here! And I do know/believe that stage poetry has form as well -- that's another discussion.]

So, with all that rambling done, here's what this week's reading made me think:
The shape of a poem gives me the first impression. I look at the poem and before I read anything, I see the shape it has on the page. It's kinda like meeting someone for the first time. Before they say anything, you've already made a "judgment" or assessment based on the way they look. (And if you are digging them, you look at their shape -- right?)

Then, I look past the outside and try to connect to the inside, the content. Once I interact with the content, I try to find a relationship to the form and the content. Sometimes I see it right away and sometimes I must look a little deeper than the surface and still other times, I realize that there isn't a relationship, it was just a choice (or lack of choice) the poet made.

The inherited form in beauty rituals 2000 by Nwenna Kai caught my attention as I flipped through the beauty is moving us forward section of Bum Rush. I call it inherited (not my original idea) because it reminds me of Ntozake Shange's For Colored Girls poem. The slashes catch me first and I go to my brain file for Shange and remember Kearney, who we read last week, and then I read Kai.

Kai's poem gives us a list of what makes her ritual of beautification. It's a list and so I find the slashes work to separate the list while simultaneously giving the reader direction on how to read the poem and where to breath. I also think it was a conscious choice to use only one stanza (another element of form). The compactness of this one stanza gives the feeling that all of things must be in place for the ritual to take place; well, except the item that reads /maybe maple brown lip gloss open-toed shoes/

Ending with God is an interesting choice. Because we've gotten use to the listing of items, it almost seems like Kai wants us to know that in the end, God is the item that matters. And God can represent nature and natural-ness in this case. The list starts with really unnatural elements: comb/toe rings/titty rings/rings for the clitoris too/ and gradually shifts to more natural items:

extra virgin olive oil
shea butter
maple brown
cypress leaves
cranberry
henna
oranges and lemons
hot steaming water
exhalation

In this instance, the poem and the form are working with one another. Kai's list and use of slash marks provide a dual reading of the poem -- as a list slowly written out or as a rapidly fired list of things one must check off. Either way the reader interacts with the poem, the form serves it well.

peacelovelight
Kiala