Good things can come in small poems

by Lory Bedikian

Published: Friday November 07, 2008 in Poetry Matters

Aram Saroyan.

The first poem by Aram Saroyan that I was introduced to appeared in The Discovery of Poetry, the text we used in one of the first poetry courses I took in college.

Our instructor asked us to read various chapters and then to create a reading response to poems we came across during our studies. In a chapter entitled "Traditional and Open Forms" I discovered this poem by Saroyan:

eyeye

Yes, that is correct. This was the poem and is the poem. Since this was my first poetry class and considering we had read so many different poems from Blake to Dickinson or from Shakespeare to Whitman, it was surprising to suddenly come across this small poem. The publishers had it printed in a large, dark typeface so that the reader obviously would not miss the poem or think it was some sort of typographical error in the middle of the page. The poem was included as an example of "concrete poetry" or poetry that takes some sort of shape. Saroyan's poem can be said to be in the shape of two eyes close together. Other poets have formed poems in the shapes of birds, houses, hourglasses, etc., where the words on the page actually appear in the shape that the poem is about.

I remember thinking that writing this and signing one's name to it was a courageous act of individuality. I had never heard of the poetry of Aram Saroyan and what I thought was most intriguing was that the poem that brought about the most animated discussions from our class was written by an Armenian­-­American. The question that was brought up during our lively class discussion was "well, is it a poem or not?"

As with any classroom setting, the students had all sorts of answers, arguments, and debates. I'd like to take the stance of my then-instructor and instead of defending whether or not it is or isn't a poem, to instead discuss or appreciate what the poet is doing through these types of creations. In the case of "eyeye" my most minimal response would be that the poet is challenging our conventional and traditional views or definitions of poetry and poems. Concrete poetry is actually not a modern invention and has been something documented since the time of the ancient Greeks.

"Eyeye" appears in Saroyan's collection Complete Minimal Poems, a book in which the poet presents us with poems as small as words, sometimes smaller, the size of a letter itself and at other moments as large as a sentence - although not necessarily a complete one. Saroyan's poems are playful, witty, almost seem to nudge you as a reader to see how you will react. I almost feel that it's a test for some readers' patience and acceptance and perhaps this can be viewed as a good thing. One thing remains true - as was the case in my own college class - that the poems encourage responses, whatever they may be, and if that was part of the poem's purpose (not the poet's necessarily) then it has done its job.

I tend to enjoy the poems that remind me of the more imagistic poems of William Carlos Williams such as "The Red Wheelbarrow" or "This is Just to Say," that many of us studied in English courses. Imagistic poetry tends to focus on a single image or few images written with much precision and focus, and with a frugality of language.

We can see this economical use of words in Saroyan's following poem:

Sunday

as the
grass's
cut

and its smell
rises
twice

The poem relies on the sense of smell, on our remembrance of such an experience. Some can ask "and what about it?" Perhaps our response to such a poem should not be a reaction, but an embrace. If we imagine what this small note is conjuring up in image, we can take the experience and go beyond the poem to create our own meaning to the image. In other words, I can enjoy this moment that the poet has reminded me of and appreciate what thoughts may arise from it, from my own vaults of memory.

Saroyan also takes the imagistic technique and uses it in unison with creating a simile such as in this poem:

somebody as

suddenly as a radio comes on
in the street

speaks

These poems seem to be - not rejecting necessarily - but moving away from what we traditionally know as poems which present an image, analyze it, perhaps compare it to other images, move beyond it, bring some philosophical illumination and the list could go on for quite a bit. Instead these poems seem to be small still life portraits that ask us to see something, smell or hear something.

I can't claim to know exactly what a poem is or should be. If I did I would either have to follow my own definition flawlessly or if I did make a claim (which was accepted) on what poets, writers, intellectuals, and academics have debated about for centuries I would probably be in a different place and of a different stature than I am today. But I'm fine where I am, and I am still intrigued by what's out there in the land of poetry, from the great old oaks to the smallest of acorns rolling by our feet.

www.aramsaroyan.com, www.uglyducklingpresse.org