The end of the semester: a farewell address [by DL]

Working with you has been a pleasure from start to finish. I’d like to leave you with a few thoughts:

-- You can do anything. When planning your future, do not limit yourself to the conventional career paths and to academic jobs dependent on advanced degrees. You can combine anything with poetry; you can be a poet and also a librarian, an advertising copy-writer, a corporate executive, a lawyer, a doctor, a computer specialist, a publisher, an arts administrator, or a journalist.

-- Keep trying new things in your poetry. And keep doing the same tried and true things. If you can, write every day, even if it is only a few sentences in a notebook. Collaborate with friends on poems and projects. If you’re in a fallow period, accept it; sometimes the brain needs time to absorb new experiences. If truly blocked, you can break it by assigning yourself a prompt that has worked for you (like a translation from a language you don’t understand, or an abecedarius, or a poem in imitation of A. R. Ammons). Sometimes a simple reversal of course is all you need to do; if you've been writing present-tense, first-person point of view poems, see what happens when you adopt a third-person POV and the past tense.

-- Read poetry. Be generous, but stick to your own lights. This may require some effort at diplomacy. But remember that you don’t have to love a person’s poetry in order to be courteous to and supportive of that person. Let posterity decide whose work will endure. We won’t be around anyway. Remember that another person’s success does nothing to diminish your own achievement. Don’t get hung up on prizes. They’re great to get; prestige is nice, money is nice; but you should spend your time on your writing, your reading, your friendships, and not on angling to get a lucrative fellowship. There will come a time when someone else will win the award you deserved, or the job you coveted, or the publication you were banking on. It might even be the person sitting next to you right now. And you will feel envy, you will feel resentment -- you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. But you cannot afford to give in to these feelings, because envy and resentment, if allowed to fester, can turn easily into bitterness and even spite, and these things are poison to a writer. To ward them off, you will need to go deeper into yourself, into your heart, into the sources of your poetry.

-- Your poems don’t have to change the world. They just have to give pleasure. Don’t feel you need to make sense all the time. Nor should you shy away from sentiment and feeling.

-- Figure out what you need from the world in order to continue as a poet. Sometimes all you need is one magazine editor who believes in your work.

-- Pay no attention to hostile reviewers. Many of them are classic bullies, sadists, who need know nothing about a subject to write about it. And when it is your turn to write about others, resist the impulse to give pain – it’s not good for your soul. And you do have a soul – otherwise you would never have committed yourself to the vocation of a poet.

-- When you read your poems aloud, do so with conviction. Read slowly and clearly. Read one poem fewer than the time allowed. Rehearse so you don’t stumble over your own words, the mark of an amateur or an academic.

-- L'chaim!

-- DL   from the archive; first posted 2008

Comments

[Laura Orem]

Yup. Good stuff! Listen up, kids!

[Leslie McGrath]

Dear David,

I've never found the kind of advice and encouragement you give here all in one place. It's taken me fifteen years to learn these things. Thank you your generosity.

Happy holidays.

[The Best American Poetry]

Thank you Leslie, and you LO. I've had a veryu gratifying response to this post!

[Emily Fragos]

Superb speech, such wise words and spiritual encouragement for new and old poets. Thank you.

[Terence Winch]

Wise & true.

[Dr. Earle Hitchner]

For a horripilating moment there at the onset, I thought your "farewell address" was regarding your own ever-fecund scribal life or even your helming of The Best American Poetry site. Whew. The sage counsel you provide is a keeper for all of us, including those who love poetry and love writing about the best of it. They also serve who only sit and praise credibly. Add my hopefully credible praise of your welcome thoughts here, David.

[Peter Fortunato]

Word!

[Michael C. Rush]

>>Sometimes all you need is one magazine editor who believes in your work.

Wouldn't that be a treasure indeed.

[Collokate]

This is all very good advice indeed. Makes me miss being in your classroom.

[Ken Lauter]

David,

As someone who's always found the "graduation" speech a dubious and difficult form,
I nevertheless find yours very appealing and useful for the grads.

Some further thoughts--

Making Sense

Don’t feel you need to make sense all the time.
- David Lehman, “The end of the semester: a farewell address”

Well, maybe not all the time– that’s
an impossible goal, anyway
(at least for poets). But isn’t sense

what we all hope and strive for
in this senseless world, at least
for the possibility of sense being

a stay against the confusion of life?
After all, if you can’t see, hear,
smell, taste, or touch something

where are you? Dead– or wishing
you were. Does that make sense?
So who will harvest sense if not our poets?

- Ken Lauter

[David Lehman]

Many thanks to all who commented.

[Finbar Lennon]

Dear David,
I have taken two bytes/bites at this post! I have been fascinated and intrigued by you since a chance finding hooked me into your orbit. Our birth year is the same. Beyond that I presume no more. I have enjoyed our remote conversation punctuated by silences, reactions and occasional comments, mostly by me, all time sensitive (nuance effect)! You are a kind opinionated man with a welcoming persona. You are also a formidable writer, poet and sage (all three). What more can a person ask for in this world!