Anne Waldman

excerpts from "Shifting Contexts," from A Formal Feeling Comes

There are two places the writing delivers itself from: inside and out. Propelling forward or responding back. An arena exists between these polar opposites (inside/outside, subjective/objective), and the energy of the poem can vibrate from any region within it. . . . .

The pantoum's ostensible simplicity is deceptive. . . . . The pleasure of the form could be how the context of each line shifts in its relation to the next. This is difficult to achieve. . . .

When I wrote "Baby's Pantoum" I had been spending most of my time with my infant son in a small cabin in the mountains outside Boulder, Colorado. . . . I began writing in the voice of the baby, it was natural to do this, and I was writing in longhand rather than typing to avoid waking the baby, and into the third stanza the problem of the "form" had vanished and the poem began to flow through me. . . . The music of the poem was working. I spoke the lines as I wrote. What filled the form, the things said, or seen, were the details of the life going on in the cabin. . . . . The repetitions reflected in the poem were the natural conditions of our daily existence.

BABY'S PANTOUM

for Reed Bye

I lie in my crib midday this is

unusual I don't sleep really

Mamma's sweeping or else boiling water for tea

Other sounds are creak of chair & floor, water

dripping on heater from laundry, cat licking itself

Unusual I don't sleep really

unless it's dark night everyone in bed

Other sounds are creak of chair & floor, water

dripping on heater from laundry, cat licking itself

& occasional peck on typewriter, peck on my cheek

Unless it's dark night everyone in bed

I'm wide awake hungry wet lonely thinking

occasional peck on typewriter, peck on my cheek

My brain cells grow, I get bigger

I'm wide awake wet lonely hungry thinking

Then Mamma pulls out breast, says "Milky?"

My brain cells grow, I get bigger

This is my first Christmas in the world

Mamma pulls out breast, says "Milky?"

Daddy conducts a walking tour of house

This is my first Christmas in the world

I study knots in pine wood ceiling

Daddy conducts a walking tour of house

I study pictures of The Madonna del Parto, a

sweet-faced Buddha & Papago Indian girl

I study knots in pine wood ceiling

I like contrasts, stripes, eyes & hairlines

I study pictures of The Madonna del Parto, a

sweet-faced Buddha & Papago Indian girl

Life is colors, faces are moving

I like contrasts, stripes, eyes & hairlines

I don't know what I look like

Life is colors, faces are moving

They love me smiling

I don't know what I look like

I try to speak of baby joys & pains

They love me smiling

She takes me through a door, the wind howls

I try to speak of baby joys & pains

I'm squinting, light cuts through my skin

She takes me through a door, the wind howls

Furry shapes & large vehicles move close

I'm squinting, light cuts through my skin

World is vast I'm in it with closed eyes

I rest between her breasts, she places me on dry leaves

He carries me gently on his chest & shoulder

I'm locked in little dream, my fists are tight

They showed me moon in sky, was something

in my dream

He carries me gently on his chest & shoulder

He calls me sweet baby, good baby boy

They showed me moon in sky, was something

in my dream

She is moving quickly & dropping things

He calls me sweet baby, good baby boy

She sings hush go to sleep right now

She is moving quickly & dropping things

They rock my cradle, they hold me tightly in their arms

She sings hush go to sleep right now

She wears red nightgown, smells of spice & milk

They rock my cradle, they hold me tightly in their arms

I don't know any of these words or things yet

She wears a red nightgown, smells of spice & milk

He has something woolen and rough on

I don't know any of these words or things yet

I sit in my chair & watch what moves

He has something woolen & rough on

I can stretch & unfold as he holds me in the bath

I sit in my chair & watch what moves

I see when things are static or they dance

I can stretch & unfold as he holds me in the bath

Water is soft I came from water

I can see when things are static or they dance

like flames, the cat pouncing, shadows or light

streaming in

Water is soft I came from water

Not that long ago I was inside her

like flames, the cat pouncing, shadows or light

streaming in

I heard her voice then I remember now

Not that long ago I was inside her

I lie in my crib midday this is

always changing, I am expanding toward you

Mamma's sweeping or else boiling water for tea.

Copyright©2006 Annie Finch