The Backseat Poet
I used to stick my head out
the backseat car window
not caring that it messed my hair
I still lean up and talk
to the people up front
and lay down and rest
when nothing is happening
When I stare at a stranger
passing by on a highway
they stare back
like I called their name
I don’t get carsick anymore
or drive jalopies that break down
I don’t drive near cities I don’t know
I don’t tell you how to write poetry
_______Colleen Redman / Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
June 2nd, 2019 9:09 am
I like the energy of this poem – the laid-back resting, the curiosity, and yet, the movement –
simple, understated, and yet it speaks volumes – I really love the 3rd stanza – it is brilliant –
and the title? *chortling* – very apt …
closing line? stellar
(seems there is an awful lot of “should/shouldn’t” + finger pointing out there -best to follow one’s own directions it seems to me)
June 2nd, 2019 9:57 am
I have a whole old self-made chapbook titled The Back Seat Poet and it goes with one of my bio lines: I keep a dictionary in the backseat of my car and a kaleidoscope in the glove compartment. What else do you need to know? I love the back seat. It’s like a couch back there. A good place for poems to be born.
June 2nd, 2019 4:42 pm
A tie I tied, quite hippishly artistically, around my head flew off because I just had to lean out the window to feel and see the magical lights of San Francisco as my brother drove down the freeway. I was 18 or 19. Still cracks me up thinking about that. I love that last line. I think that way more each day.
June 2nd, 2019 6:07 pm
“When I stare at a stranger passing by on a highway they stare back like I called their name.” That’s so true I find … people seem to sense when they’re being noticed, even if from a car whizzing by.
June 2nd, 2019 8:27 pm
why does your “poet’s car kit” not surprise me? LOL – sounds absolutely brilliant, and somehow, very you — so hell, yeah, I bet you like road-tripping from back there, like checking out life in the fast/passing lane, in the rear-view mirror –
or “objects are closer than they appear” (hmm, might make for a good “angst titled poem”) …
cheers!
June 4th, 2019 9:45 am
From the backseat the speaker engages with her own thoughts, converses with people in the car, and acknowledges others as they pass by. We are all travellers on this poetry road but not everyone is heading in the same direction or with the same destination in mind. A good reminder to just sit back and enjoy the ride without trying to take over the wheel.
June 4th, 2019 11:15 am
And a poem takes birth in observing and resting and looking and staring and finding a space of comfort and familiarity. The slight movements of your words and images made me sway to your closing line, as and when it came, to break the spell.
Such an apt metaphor for this journey of writing! A lovely verse!
June 4th, 2019 2:07 pm
Nor should anyone tell anybody else how to write poems, although, they may be sometimes offer a good suggestion. It is up to the poet whether they take a suggestion or not.
June 4th, 2019 3:44 pm
I love this, Colleen! Everyone needs a backseat poet who doesn’t tell them how to write poetry! I don’t get carsick when I’m at the wheel, but I’m a terrible passenger, especially in the back seat. Maybe moving around like you would help.
June 4th, 2019 3:51 pm
Love how you ended this… really how it should be.
June 4th, 2019 5:24 pm
Such a nice use of travel as metaphor. Sometimes, though,I need help with writing poetry
June 4th, 2019 10:18 pm
I liked this a lot, the child’s voice still there even though she was an adult and the confidence and understanding that even in poetry you have said what you wanted to say in your poetry as it is your viewpoint not others,
June 5th, 2019 8:05 am
The final line is perfect!