In Robert Bly’s seminal 1975 treatise, Leaping Poetry, he writes, “Thought of in terms of language,
then, leaping is the ability to associate fast. In a great ancient or modern poem, the considerable
distance between the associations, the distance the spark has to leap, gives the lines their bottomless
feeling, their space, and the speed of association increases the excitement of the poetry.” Bly goes on
to write about the poet moving between the reptile, mammal, and plant (the neocortex) brains and
from the subconscious to the conscious and how this psychic/linguistic mobility gives the language
power and creates new meanings. This kind of leaping can manifest itself in all sorts of ways—a
rapid switching between different levels of diction, between different kinds of tone, between
different kinds of rhythm and speed in the poem, and an openness to combining imagery drawn
from various material, literary, or spiritual landscapes. Bly reveres Spanish-language poets such as
Neruda, Vallejo, and Machado as masters of the leap. We’re going to practice leaping this week.
Choose one of the following three assignments to produce your poem for this week.
The assignment I chose is below:
In Lorca’s famous essay, “The Theory and Function of Duende,” (which Bly quotes from
frequently in Leaping Poetry), he writes, “Very often intellect is poetry’s enemy because it is
too much given to imitation, because it lifts the poet to a throne of sharp edges and makes
him oblivious to the fact that he may suddenly be devoured by ants, or a great arsenic lobster
may fall on his head.” Bly writes, “Duende involves a kind of elation when death is present
in the room, it is associated with “dark sounds,” and when a poet has duende inside him (or
her), he brushes past death with each step, and in that presence associates fast.” Write a
poem driven by “dark sounds,” that sets an eerie or unsettling mood/tone. Write a poem
with the presence of death in the room. Associate fast. Imagine that in the next moment you
may be devoured by or ants or that a great arsenic lobster may fall on your head. You’re
writing against time and into the void. Do not mention the fact that you’re writing against
time and into the void.