POETRY CORNER: Losing a parent is always difficult

Johannesburg

I read that Johannesburg is the world’s largest city
not on a river, lake or ocean. That’s what I read.
Water is important. But what I know for sure

is that my grandmother could not drink water
just before she died and I remember feeding her
ice. My mother, well, she died like a vapor

before I could even feed her goodbye.
My father anointed his dry mouth with a swab
dipped in water the night before he passed.

And I wake up and reach for the bottle
on the nightstand and just before
the water passes my lips a thousand thoughts

enter my mind and I drink anyway,
thirsty, but what choice do we have, really,
but to stay close to water

for as long as we can

-- Harry Calhoun

For Harry Calhoun, enduring the death of both of his parents within a span of 11 months left him seeking answers to life’s toughest questions. During these challenging times, Calhoun turned to poetry for comfort.

“I lost both my parents over the period from March 2008 to February 2009,” Calhoun recalled. “And believe me, soul-searching to get to my feelings about those events inspired me to do a lot of writing.”

Calhoun continues to find the soul-searching nature of writing poetry helpful.

“It’s a lot of therapy, sometimes not easy to go through, but it does get the emotions out there and lets you examine them,” he said. “I have often said that one reason I write is to find out what I’m thinking about. The poems sometimes surface emotions, fears or simple joys that would otherwise go undetected.”

Even with these unique healing and therapeutic qualities, poetry often gets relegated to the sidelines in the world of reading, writing and publishing.

“Poetry is sort of the ‘odd bird’ of the literary world,” Calhoun believes. “Even people who are voracious fiction readers, or people who paint or pursue other artistic endeavors, seem a little skeptical when you tell them you write poetry.” 

While he personally appreciates the art of poetry, Calhoun senses that poetry simply is as important to other people.

“That’s not intended to sound bitter or cynical,” he said of his assessment.  “It’s just true.”

True or not, Calhoun -- whose articles, essays and poems have appeared in Writer’s Digest, Chiron Review, Orange Room Review, The Centrifugal Eye, and Monongahela Review -- does wish more people could appreciate the benefits and the power of poetry.

“Many writers, and I think especially poets, feel like outsiders, ostracized almost,” he said. “But for people who care and understand it, poetry is a very pure and, at its best, beautiful way of communicating.”

Calhoun does recall a time in his life when writing poetry was still one of his emerging talents.

“Well, of course I was exposed to poetry early on in school, but I guess I first started liking it — and writing it, badly — in high school,” Calhoun recalled.  “I remember I wrote a poem comparing a girl I had a crush on to a purple-and-green stuffed gorilla. Obviously, I had a lot to learn.”

Calhoun has never stopped learning.  He continues to read a range of work from a variety of poets.

“I keep several books of poetry by authors I like close by,” he said. “Just like with any other type of writing, you have to read it to be able to write it. Reading newer poets keeps me current, and reading the old ones reminds me that the old dogs still have quite a few tricks to offer.”

Calhoun is currently enjoying the poetry of W.S. Merwin, Billy Collins, Dylan Thomas and Charles Bukowski.

“How can anyone live without some Bukowski?” he asked.

His reading list also includes Asheville poet Christopher Cunningham and New Mexico’s Hosho McCreesh. Calhoun also follows the writing of poets he worked with and published in back when his literary magazine, Pig in a Poke, was in circulation.

“Poets I published there long ago — Jim Daniels and Louis McKee spring immediately to mind — still hold a special place in my heart,” he explained. “I have been reading a lot of McKee lately and marvel at his simple eloquence, the easy way he has of talking about difficult subjects. That is at the very heart of poetry.”

Over the past few years, Calhoun has noticed some patterns in his own approach to writing.

“I am writing more and thinking about it less,” he said. “I throw the first draft on the page longhand and then savagely attack it and rewrite at the computer.” 

His advice to other writers – especially those just starting out – is to put in the time.

“Doesn’t matter how you do it, it’s getting it done that matters,” he said. “As I’ve told my wife, Trina Allen, who is herself an excellent fiction writer, the important thing is to place the seat of your pants on the chair. Then, as someone else once said, just open a vein and let it flow.”

When Calhoun’s poetry vein flows, his readers benefit.

“Poetry is very different from reading fiction or nonfiction,” Calhoun said. “Poetry is something that connects in a visceral and special way. Poetry -- at its best -- either changes you or makes you feel deeply what the poet is expressing.”

For his part, Calhoun hopes he can help people work through the mystery that often surrounds poetry. “I guess one of my goals is to make my writing so accessible that they’ll read it ... and truly understand poetry.”

To read more of Harry Calhoun’s thoughts on poetry and writing, visit the Piedmont Poetry Project blog at http://piedmontpoetryproject.blogspot.com/

Harry Calhoun’s trade paperback, “I Knew Bukowski Like You Knew a Rare Leaf,” the recently published “The Black Dog” and “The Road” and his chapbook, “Something Real” are available at Amazon.com.

Find links to Pig in a Poke archives and information on how to purchase Calhoun’s books at http://harrycalhoun.net.

Bill Diskin is director of admission and financial aid at Cannon School in Concord. He can be reached at wdiskin@cannonschool.org.