OrionOur monthly writers’ groups are held over steaming mugs of coffee and tea, plenty of chitchat and oatmeal muffins. Through them, I’ve been exposed to types of writing I’m not familiar with. Carri, one of our group members, is a gifted poet which shows through in her prose – wonderfully delicate and precise. She has introduced me to the pantoum, a kind of poem that feels like a merry-go-round because certain lines repeat themselves and then you end up with the same line you started with.

She’s clearly started a trend because the last time we met both Kundai and I both had pantoums of our own to share. Let me start off by introducing you to the form by one done by the expert hand of Cathy Eden, our writing coach.

NIGHT SKIES
By Cathy Eden

Look up at the night sky, my father said.
Know where you come from and where you belong.
See Orion and Sirius wheel overhead;
The brilliant expanse plays a faint cosmic song.

Know where you come from and where you belong
If you are to make sense of this life on the earth.
The brilliant expanse plays a faint cosmic song.
Star tunes hum your history and reason for birth.

If you are to make sense of this life on the earth,
Be happy, be kind, find purpose and love.
Star tunes hum your history and reason for birth.
Be conscious and know: as below, so above.

Be happy, be kind, find purpose and love.
Some days will be storm-tossed, burdened with strife;
Be conscious and know: as below, so above.
Hold your course, even more, to the wonder of life.

Some days will be storm-tossed, burdened with strife,
See Orion and Sirius wheel overhead;
Hold your course, even more, to the wonder of life.
Look up at the night sky, my father said.

Fake flowersBy reading this, you’ve probably noticed that line two and four of each stanza are repeated in the following one. It’s quite a tidy structure because by the time you get to the last stanza, you also repeat lines three and one of your first stanza, so everything gets tied up with a neat bow. Let’s take a look at this delightfully quirky pantoum by Carri.

Eccentricity
By Carri Kuhn

That old lady next door
What is it about her?
It’s the hats, yes that’s what it is,
and all those cats.

What is it about her
hats? They’re full of feathers,
and all those cats
in the front windows.

Hats, they’re full of feathers
and fake yellow flowers
in the front. Windows,
a garden full of weeds

and fake yellow flowers.
It’s the hats, yes that’s what. She is
a garden full of weeds.
That old lady next door.

Kundai came up with her own beautiful offering, quite lyrical and mysterious. She hasn’t titled it, but I think if we were to call it “Pink” or “To My Daughter”, it might help you to understand the meaning a bit better. Here it is.

Untitled
By Kundai Williams

She carries half the sky.
Her joy and laughter is a gift like rain on parched earth.
Their salvation lies in her choices
But do they know, have they learnt.

Her joy and laughter is a gift like rain on parched earth
Cleansing the wound before it festers.
But do they know, have they learnt
Instead of rushing her to the edge their destruction.

Cleansing the wound before it festers?
What is required, how much and how long.
Instead of rushing her to the edge their destruction
At what point will we ask why.

What is required how much and how long
Their, salvation lies in her. Choices,
At what point. Will they ask why
She carries half the sky.

As I’m sharing these pantoums, I’ve just noticed that Carri’s and Kundai’s only have four stanzas, whereas mine and Cathy’s have five. I suppose you can choose how long you want the pantoum to be. Whether you want it to rhyme (in an “ABAB” rhyme scheme) is also up to you.

What I love about this form is that ideas get reinforced through repetition, but each time the line comes up it shifts meaning slightly because of its different placing and the other new thoughts that contextualise it. Here’s my offering. I hope these pantoums inspire you to try your hand at this unique form of poetry.

Trading Places
By Katherine Graham

I’ve looked at that picture all day and it’s skew.
I must fix it, put it straight, make it right.
What I really need is something to look at that’s new.
Wish I could see the beach or a field in dappled light.

I must fix it, put it straight, make it right.
You must keep up the standards, my mom always said.
Wish I could see the beach or a field in dappled light.
Trying to keep everything tidy is hurting my head.

You must keep up the standards, my mom always said.
I wish the mess didn’t bother me so much, but it does.
Trying to keep everything tidy is hurting my head.
What did I say I must I do again? My mind’s a fuzz.

I wish the mess didn’t bother me so much, but it does.
Some days I could lie in bed the whole time.
What did I say I must do again? My mind’s a fuzz.
The hours crawl by without reason or rhyme.

Some days I could lie in bed the whole time.
What I really need is something to look at that’s new.
The hours crawl by without reason or rhyme.
I’ve looked at that picture all day and it’s skew.