NaPoWriMo wrapup, part 1: Exquisite Teens Collaborative Poetry Project

Stacia Fleegal

One of Versify's projects for National Poetry Month was to do an exquisite corpse collaborative writing exercise with members of the Teen Takeover staff.

Madeleine Nesbitt, Willow Pinkerton and Brady Achterberg enthusiastically volunteered to take up the challenge. I created a closed Facebook group where we could build our poem privately -- we didn't want to share it until the end.

I wrote a weird first line and we were off.

I'll share the finished product in a minute, but first,

I have to say that I think this project went really well. There are two main challenges to collaborative writing projects. The first is resisting the urge to assign an order for each person to post in, but still getting equal and ample participation. Ideally, the writers will have an innate sense of when to let their fellow writers take their turns and when to jump in and respond to a line that catches their eye. I didn't say, "OK, I'll go first, then Madeleine will write the second line, then Brady ... " because I think too much structure zaps the fun and spontaneity out of it. All four of us wrote three lines each, not necessarily in the same order, but it definitely seems like we each tried to write a line and then wait until the other three had taken a turn before going again. The fact that that happened without any predetermination is evidence of a highly successful collaboration.

The second challenge, along the same lines, is avoiding the trap of one writer's voice or style taking over. A good collaboration will sort of snake along, swinging one way, then another, so that there's a nice back-and-forth. If all goes well, everyone's intentions for the poem will blend into a narrative, with, again, no preconception. Our poem definitely succeeds in this sense. For example, Brady wrote a funny second line that included the word "Honolee" (as in, Puff the Magic Dragon), while Madeleine and Willow started out with more heady, philosophical contributions. But by the time we got to Willow's second line, she used a kind of whimsical word, "hullabaloo," that, at least for me, harkened back to Honolee.

The only change I made to the final version was to omit one word at the end of a line near the beginning, so that the poem flowed grammatically.

Watching our poem find its way toward cohesiveness was really cool, and I think the teens agree. I'm going to let each of them propose their own title, and here's the title I'd pick, and our poem:

"Candied Zebras and Imaginary Lions"

I can't remember where I put my zebra.

I think it went to Honolee

to dream [of stars] caught,

lost in aqueous galaxies, a cold serendipity.

But what does a zebra know of serendipity?

It knows: Chance will play no role in a lion's first preying [praying for survival].

Candied zebras are all across my lawn.

The imaginary lions will have a field day if I don't find her soon.

We're all finding solace in this tragic hullabaloo of daydreams, the lion heart versus a zebra's trickery,

the sharp mind versus hearts and stars, yet what Brutus knew was not his only knowledge.

A chance encounter brought my zebra behind concrete lines and glass,

and there she will stay until I awake from this fantasy, focusing back to chalk dust and scribbles.

Thanks to Madeleine, Brady and Willow for your brains, words and enthusiasm. We made a surreal and fun little poem. I look forward to hearing your titles. :)

What do you think of our collaborative poem?