Prompt 3: Write about an Everyday Thing

Close up photo of an Atlantic Halibut taken by Thomas Laupstad.

For the Word Play class this week, I brought my students a box of objects: a pine cone, an egg, a flashlight, some rubber gloves, etc. The goal was to find a way, through a 3-step process, to turn their simple objects into poems about life and statements of humanity.

One of my students picked the egg (brown, hard boiled). For the first step, she wrote a thorough clinical list. She discovered that the skin of an egg is not entirely smooth, but "coarse like sand pebbles." She described the shape as a cameo, and she noted its hidden "luscious core."

The great thing about an object poem is that you don't have to start with a blank page. Because you begin with a description of an egg or a glove or whatever you've chosen, you get to find your way into the poem slowly.

So, here's how you do it:

Step 1: Study your object; obsess over it. Describe it in every sensory way you can. Begin with basics like color and pattern. What sounds does it make? What does it feel like? Roll it around. Pick it up. Sniff it. Stick your hand in it. Empty it. Turn it over.


Step 2: Make a list of everything it does, or is used for. Use some verbs here. For example, a ball of string could fly a kite or stitch a tent back together. What else?


Step 3: Make a connection to yourself or something larger. For example, if you're staring at a flashlight, you might say it "illumines infinitely" or "melts darkness." This is where the writing gets more ephemeral. It's harder to hang onto these sort of platitudes; but be grandiose about it anyway, then cut back later if you've really overdone it. You also need to pull it away from being only a simple detached description. Eventually, you want to bring the poem into the realm of emotion, or connection.


Returning to the student who selected the egg, she had difficulty finding the larger connection to what an egg might stand for. After she read what she'd written to the class, I encouraged her to peel the egg. That, I believe, will give her a new understanding of inside and outside, core and surface.